»      V 


'V  .;"■    ■  V 


BV  4207  .W5  1 

Wilkinson,  William  Cleaver, 

1833-1920,  .    1 

Modern  masters  of  pulpit  i 


MODERN   MASTERS 

of 
PULPIT    DISCOURSE 


BY 

WILLIAM    CLEAVER  WILKINSON 

Author  ai  "The  Epic  of  Siul,"  "The  Epic  of  Paul,"  "The  Epic  of  Moses,"  etc. 


FUNK  ic  WAGNALLS  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 
1905 


13  J 


Copyright,  1905,  Br 

FUNK    &    WAGNALLS     COMPANY 

[Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America! 

Publisked,    Ap'il,    igoj 


-A 


PREFACE 

INInsT  of  the  criticisms  in  tliis  volume  were  written  during 
the  lifetime  of  their  several  subjects,  and  then  published 
anonymously  as  a  scries  under  a  common  title  in  "  The 
Homilctic  Review."  It  was  from  the  first  in  the  thought 
of  the  author  to  gather  them  eventually  into  a  book.  When 
the  time  approached  for  doing  this,  he,  with  a  view  to 
making  the  list  of  preachers  considered  inclusive  enough 
to  satisfy  any  just  expectation  which  the  proposal  of  such 
a  volume  might  be  conceived  as  awakening,  felt  it  desirable 
to  add  a  few  names  not  embraced  in  the  original  series. 
The  supplementary  papers  resulting  were  published  inde- 
pendently under  the  name  of  the  author. 

It  was  believed  that  to  change  the  tense  in  which  these 
papers  were  first  written,  and  to  recast  their  form,  would 
be  to  deprive  them  of  a  certain  vividness  due  to  the  con- 
temporaneous conditions  attending  and  alTecting  their  pro- 
duction. Accordingly,  though  they  have  been  carefully  re- 
considered and  revised  throughout,  and  retrenched  slightly 
in  some  cases,  and  in  some  cases  considerably  enlarged,  still 
they  are  substantially  the  same  in  their  text  and  their  tenor 
as  when  they  originally  appeared.  The  author,  however, 
in  the  present  reproduction  of  his  criticisms,  has  acted 
somewhat  as  a  kind  of  posthumous  editor  to  himself,  pre- 
facing nearly  all  of  them  with  explanations  and  comments 
which  he  hopes  will  be  found  pertinent  and  acceptable. 

While  the  plan  of  making  the  present  book  was  still 
under  advisement,  the  title  for  such  possible  volume  that 
first  came  to  the  author's  mind  was,  "  Some  Preachers  of 

vii 


viii  PREFACE 

To-day  and  Yesterday."  (That  would  in  fact  have  been 
my  own  final  choice  of  title ;  but  I  deferred  to  my  publishers' 
preference  of  the  alternative  title  which  the  book  accordingly 
now  bears.)  I  mention  this  circumstance  to  explain  a  turn 
of  expression  naturally  suggested  by  it,  that  occurs  in  the 
opening  of  the  paper  devoted  to  Mr.  Moody,  as  also  in  the 
opening  of  each  one  of  the  two  papers  following  that,  which 
conclude  the  series.  Incorporated  in  the  text  of  the  last 
two  papers  will  be  found  a  statement  of  the  warrant  felt 
by  the  writer  to  exist  for  including  examples  from  so  long 
ago  as  are  Jesus  and  Paul,  in  a  list  of  subjects  entitled, 
"  Modern  Masters  of  Pulpit  Discourse." 

Finally,  the  author,  indulging  the  impulse  he  often 
feels  to  put  his  thought  and  his  feeling  into  verse,  has 
introduced  at  the  end  of  his  volume,  a  group  of  sonnets, 
which,  if  he  has  been  successful  in  his  attempt  thus  briefly 
to  express,  in  metre  and  rhyme,  the  sum  and  spirit  of  his 
criticisms,  the  reader  wall  find  no  difficulty  in  assigning, 
without  the  help  of  titles  to  guide  him,  to  their  respective 
subjects  in  the  pages  preceding. 


I 

HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

The  following  criticism,  as  will  appear  from  the  text  itself 
of  the  paper,  was  first  published  very  soon  after  the  death  of 
the  eminent  subject.  It  stands  here  for  the  most  part  un- 
changed from  the  form  in  which  it  then  saw  the  light.  I  have 
not  scrupled,  however,  in  the  present  reproduction  of  it,  to 
introduce  at  points,  without  particular  notice  to  the  reader, 
matter  not  included  in  the  criticism  when  it  was  originally 
given  to  the  public. 

In  the  course  of  the  revision  to  which  I  have  subjected  my 
work  in  preparation  for  the  use  now  made  of  it,  I  have 
not  found  any  occasion  to  modify  materially  the  judgments, 
favorable  or  unfavorable,  that  I  at  first  felt  compelled  to 
pronounce  on  Henry  Ward  Beecher.  The  criticism  provoked 
criticism  of  the  critic,  notably  from  the  pen  of  Dr.  Lyman 
Abbott.  I  have  carefully  considered  what  he  had  to  object 
to  my  views  and  statements  —  with  the  result  which  I  have 
already  just  indicated.  Dr.  Abbott's  "  Reply,"  the  editor 
of  the  "  Homiletic  Review  "  (in  which  periodical  the  criticism 
had  appeared),  acting  with  the  cheerful  consent  and  approval 
of  the  present  writer,  admitted  to  his  pages.  Of  course  the 
critic  (who,  by  the  way,  in  the  present  case,  as  in  almost  all 
the  other  cases,  published  his  criticism  anonymously  —  this, 
with  ready  deference  on  his  part  to  the  wish  of  the  editor) 
made  no  rejoinder  to  Dr.  Abbott's  "  Reply."  A  correspond- 
ent, however,  of  the  editor's,  personally  unknown  to  the  critic, 
pointed  out,  in  a  note  which,  as  deemed  suitable,  perhaps  in- 
deed intended  by  the  writer,  for  such  use,  was  published  in 

3 


4  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

the  "  Review,"  that  the  "  Reply  "  did  not  meet  the  criticism 
at  all,  but  moving  indeed  in  the  opposite  direction,  left  it  to 
one  side,  without  touching  it. 

In  immediate  preparation  for  writing  his  criticism,  which 
was  planned  for  while  the  subject  of  it  was  still  living,  the 
author,  altho  he  had  previously  had  repeated  opportunities 
to  hear  Mr.  Beecher  from  the  pulpit  and  from  the  platform, 
desiring  to  refresh  his  impression  of  the  great  preacher's  liv' 
ing  eloquence,  went  one  Sunday  morning  to  Plymouth  Church 
for  the  purpose  of  sitting  yet  again  under  the  spell  of  that 
incomparable  oratory.  It  may  serve  to  show  how  the  key 
of  feeling  was  given  me  anew,  in  which  I  was  necessarily 
to  pitch  my  subsequent  criticism,  if  I  here  describe  that 
memorable  occasion.  It  may  also  bring  the  marvelous  man, 
and  the  marvelous  environment  that  he  had  created  for 
himself,  more  vividly  before  the  imagination  of  some  of  the 
younger  among  the  readers  of  this  book. 

It  was  the  first  Sunday  morning  after  Mr.  Beecher's 
"  home-return  "  from  his  last  visit  to  Great  Britain. 

The  weather  was  cloudy-bright,  and  crisp  with  autumn  cool. 
The  streets  were  washed  cleaner  than  man  could  wash  them, 
with  a  great  rain  of  God  fallen  during  the  night.  The  con- 
ditions were  all  favorable  for  a  full  frequence  of  hearers  and 
spectators  at  Plymouth  Church.  If  I  had  not  been  influen- 
tially  introduced,  I  should  not  have  got  a  seat  at  all.  As  it 
was,  many  stood  where  there  was  standing-room  in  the  aisles, 
and  clusters  of  people  clung  standing,  like  swarming  bees, 
on  the  fringes  of  the  great  congregation  about  the  doors. 
The  spectacle  was  impressive. 

The  pulpit  platform  was  groved  and  mounded  with  herb 
and  flower  in  festal  decoration,  to  greet  and  honor  the 
preacher.  Spray  of  leaf  and  bloom  climbed  aspiring,  on  either 
side  the  pulpit.  "  Welcome  "  blazed  in  flamy  red  of  flower, 
on  a  green  ground  of  foliage,  behind  and  above  Mr.  Beecher 


HENRY  WARD  B  EEC  HER  5 

—  a  mute  but  eloquent  voice  to  interpret  the  emblem  con- 
tained in  all  that  sudden  and  brilliant  burst  of  bloom. 

But  the  most  impressive,  if  not  the  most  beautiful,  flow^er 
to  be  seen  on  the  platform,  I  have  not  yet  mentioned.  This 
had  its  place  in  the  midst  of  the  display,  and  formed  the 
center-piece  which  seemed,  like  the  keystone  of  an  arch, 
to  crown  and  support  the  whole.  It  was  the  long-leaved 
almond-blossom  that  flourished,  white  and  venerable,  on  the 
head  of  Mr.  Beecher  himself. 

To  me  the  sight  was  inexpressibly  pathetic.  The  large, 
smooth-shaven,  rubicund  face  of  the  preacher  set  off  most 
strikingly  the  silver  of  his  hair,  streaming  in  long  locks 
behind  the  ears.  Fulness  of  blood  which  is  the  life  seemed 
to  be  imported  by  the  warm  color  of  the  skin ;  but  the  hoary 
head  betokened  the  inevitably  stealing  frost  of  age.  If  I 
had  seen  before  me  an  old  age  crowning  a  fruitful  life  without 
reproach,  the  sight  would  still  have  been  one  to  move  tears 
perhaps  —  but  not  such  tears !  Not  tears  of  disappointment, 
of  regret,  of  remorse,  of  passionate  shame !  As  the  case 
stood,  indignation,  reprobation,  were  half  laid  to  sleep  in 
the  arms  of  over-persuading  pure  sorrow  and  sympathy.  The 
sight  became  simply,  and,  as  I  said,  unspeakably,  affecting. 
In  this  mood  of  softened  feeling,  sympathetic,  far  more  than 
antipathetic,  I  sat  listening,  beholding  and  remembering, 
throughout  the  service. 

"All  Hail  the  Power  of  Jesus'  Name,"  was  the  first  hymn 
given  out  by  Mr.  Beecher.  "  One  of  his  favorite  hymns," 
I  heard  whispered  by  a  listener  at  my  side.  It  was  sung 
sweetly  and  strongly  by  the  great  multitude  of  voices.  I 
saw  Mr.  Beecher  joining  in  the  song.  After  what  seemed 
to  me  a  more  than  usually  prolonged  organ  interlude,  pre- 
paratory to  the  last  stanza  with  its  endeavoring  aspiration, 
"  Oh,  that  with  yonder  sacred  throng,"  I  watched  Mr. 
Beecher,  and  felt  sure,  by  a  movement  of  his  broad,  bare. 


6  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

mobile  throat,  that  I  saw  him  swallowing  a  big  emotion  which 
almost  choked  him.  If  it  was  a  prayer  on  his  part,  in  the 
sentiment  of  the  stanza,  I  could  join  in  it  heartily,  on  behalf 
of  the  preacher,  too,  as  well  as  on  behalf  of  his  congregation, 
including  myself,  whatever  our  several  sin.  And,  in  either 
case,  not  without  hope ;  for  is  it  not  written,  "  His  mercy 
endureth  forever  ?  " 

The  prayer  that  followed  the  singing  was  tender  and 
\  reverent.  There  was  efflorescence,  feeble  comparatively,  but 
not  ineffectual,  of  the  old  poetic  instinct  in  conception  and 
in  phrase,  native  and  habitual  in  prayer  to  this  wonderful 
genius.  Poetry  and  devotion  are  natural  kindred,  witness 
forever  the  psalms  of  David.  But  it  is  better  when  devotion 
inspires  to  poetry,  than  it  is  when  poetry  simply  takes  the 
form  of  devotion. 
I  That  blithe  humor  which  was  not  the  least  remarkable 
i  among  the  many  remarkable  survivals  of  faculty  to  old  age, 
in  this  world-worn,  and,  one  would  have  supposed,  world- 
weary  soul,  broke  out  naturally,  and  not  blameworthily,  in 
just  one  word  of  his,  aptly  and  most  undemonstratively 
spoken.  Assistant  pastor  Halliday,  himself  a  hoary-headed 
man,  said,  promptingly,  from  his  place  near  the  platform; 
"  You  omitted  the  notice  of  the  Ladies'  Sewing  Circle."  Mr. 
Beecher  composedly  looked  over  his  handful  of  notices  and 
said  quietly,  "  I  read  that," —  at  the  same  time,  however, 
repeating  it  aloud,  "  I  read  that."  "  I  didn't  observe  it,"  Mr. 
Halliday  explained.  "  Evidently,"  was  Mr,  Beecher's  good- 
humored  response;  and  a  gentle  wavelet  of  mirth  rippled 
over  the  faces  of  hearers,  while  Mr.  Beecher  visibly  strove 
to  smooth  out  the  after  smile  that  softly  billowed  his  own 
cheeks. 

The  sermon  was  a  very  plain,  unilluminated  essay  on  the 
text,  "  Henceforth  I  call  you  not  servants ;  for  the  servant 
knoweth  not  what  his  lord  doeth:   but  I  have  called  you 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER  7 

friends."  The  idea  of  the  discourse  was  to  point  the  differ- 
ence between  the  relation  to  Christ  of  servitude  and  that 
of  love,  on  the  part  of  the  disciple.  I  felt  that  the  whole 
drift  of  the  inculcation  was  a  strange  and  a  sad  missing  of 
the  real  sense  conveyed  by  the  Savior  in  those  lovely  words 
of  his.  Mr.  Beecher  made  the  change  of  relation,  from  that 
of  the  servant  to  that  of  the  friend  of  Christ,  turn  on  the 
changed  inward  state  of  the  disciple's  heart,  instead  of  on  the 
pure,  free,  sweet  creative  grace  of  the  bestowing  and  electing 
Lord  himself.  How,  for  me,  such  treatment  did  vacate  the 
saying  of  its  transcendent,  its  characteristic  charm !  The 
grace,  the  kindness,  the  unearned,  unconditional  pure  love, 
which,  for  no  cause  in  them,  only  for  all-constraining  cause 
in  Him,  led  Jesus  to  advance  those  as  yet  unchanged,  but 
thereafter  and  thereby,  to-be-changed,  men,  from  the  rank 
of  servants  to  the  rank  of  friends  —  how  this  exquisite, 
ineffable,  heavenly  fragrance  was  left  by  the  preacher, 
abiding,  unreleased,  and  as  if  undiscovered,  in  the  heart  of 
the  text! 

But  Mr.  Beecher  treated  less  a  text  than  a  topic  —  an  old 
topic  with  him  and  an  old  treatment.  There  was  no  fresh 
thought,  no  fresh  feeling,  in  the  sermon.  It  was  as  if  the 
aged  spring  had  been  worn  to  great  weakness  in  the  preacher, 
and  now  wearily  refused  to  be  elastic.  But  the  congregation 
were  respectfully  attentive  throughout. 

The  sentiment  of  the  whole  occasion,  to  me,  as  I  have 
said,  was  pathetic.  It  was  indeed  wonderful  to  see  a  man  of 
seventy-three  years,  after  such  a  career  of  variously  exhaust- 
ing toil,  with  such  a  crisis  in  it,  so  prolonged,  of  peril,  of 
solicitude,  of  suspense,  of  ultimate  irrecoverable  loss  —  far 
more  exhausting  than  any  toil  —  it  was  wonderful,  I  say, 
to  see  the  subject  of  a  history  like  this,  still  so  vital  and  so 
effective  as  Mr  Beecher  was,  and  still  tenacious  of  so  much 
personal  affection  from  so  many  loyal  hearts.     But  I,  remem- 


8  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

bering  the  "  Silver  Wedding  "  of  fifteen  years  or  so  before,* 
and  contrasting  the  unbounded  ascription  and  oblation  of 
that  incomparable  festival  with  the  seemingly  shadowed 
brilliancy  of  this  welcome  from  a  church  to  its  pastor  —  I  at 
least  could  but  be  occupied  less  with  the  vision  of  what 
was,  than  with  a  vision  of  what  was  not,  of  what  was  never 
to  be !  I  saw,  all  the  time,  in  imagination,  the  spectacle  of 
Mr.  Beecher,  old  indeed  as  now,  but  happily  descending,  like 
an  afternoon  sun,  the  arcs  of  a  slowly  and  cloudlessly  closing 
career,  the  firmament  filled,  from  round  about  him,  with  a 
soft  splendor  of  fame  and  of  influence,  no  envious  mists  inter- 
cepting his  rays,  and  no  ambush  bank  of  dark,  deepening 
upward  along  the  horizon,  to  receive  and  quench  his  orb 
before  its  due  moment  of  setting.  That  which  might  have 
been !  The  inward  vision  that  thus  occupied  me  was  a 
vision  —  alas,  not  realized  —  of  the  morally  noble  and  en- 
nobling hardly  ever  surpassed  by  anything  in  the  realm  of 
fact  or  of  fancy.  The  absence  of  the  reality  haunted  me  — 
saddening  almost  as  much  as  the  presence  of  it,  had  it  been 
present,  would  have  made  glad. 

*  The  reference  is  to  the  celebration  of  the  twenty-fifth  anniversary  of 
Mr.  Beecher's  becoming  pastor  of  Plymouth  Church.  This  occasion  will  be 
referred  to  again,  and  more  fully,  in  a  succeeding  paper,  that  on  Dr. 
Storrs. 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

"  The  most  myriad-minded  man  since  Shakespeare,"  was, 
twenty  years  or  more  ago,  the  tribute  generously  paid  by 
the  youthful  Spurgeon  to  the  genius  of  Beecher,  then  him- 
self in  the  midst  of  his  long  and  glorious  prime.  If  Mr. 
Spurgeon  now,*  sobered  with  years,  with  experience,  and 
with  sense  of  responsibility,  would  hesitate  to  pay  the  same 
tribute  again,  his  hesitation,  we  may  be  sure,  would  be  due 
to  other  considerations  much  more  than  to  any  change  in 
his  estimate  of  the  intellectual  powers  of  the  mighty  de- 
parted. Departed !  The  present  paper  is  in  no  sense  to 
be  a  threnody  or  a  eulogy  on  Mr.  Beecher ;  but  to  the  writer 
—  and  the  like  must  be  true  of  the  reader  —  it  was,  with 
the  death  of  this  world-famous  man,  as  if  a  sun  had  gone 
suddenly  out  in  the  darkening  sky.  It  would  require  a 
strange  insensibility,  either  to  write  or  to  read  of  Henry 
Ward  Beecher  departed,  without  some  sense  of  a  darkness 
from  the  shadow  that  his  withdrawal  has  thrown.  The 
shadow  does  not  seem  so  deep  as  it  would  have  seemed  had 
it  fallen  twenty  years  earlier;  for  the  brightness  that  it 
then  would  have  followed  was  greater.  But  "  the  cloud 
that  Cometh  betwixt "  cannot  wholly  extinguish  the  sun 
still  above  the  horizon,  and  sombre  change  is  perceived  when 
even  a  clouded  sun  has  finally  abandoned  the  firmament. 
Farewell,  O  sun !  Glorious,  indeed,  wert  thou  in  the  zenith 
of  thy  sphere !  Some  of  us  can  remember  when  thou  wast 
as  a  bridegroom  coming  out  of  his  chamber,  and  rejoicing 
as  a  strong  man  to  run  a  race.    What  fair,  fresh  splendor 

•  Before  using,  as  I  did,  Spurgeon's  youthful  tribute  to  Beecher's  genius, 
I  wrote  to  the  great  London  preacher  asking  whether  he  had  indeed  so 
characterized  the  pastor  of  Plymouth  Church.  Mr.  Spurgeon  replied  ad- 
mitting that  he  had  in  his  youth  expressed  himself  in  that  way,  but  adding 
that  he  would  not  do  it  now. 


lO  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

then  was  thine !  How  the  heavens  rejoiced,  how  the  earth 
was  glad,  with  thy  shining!  Almost  it  seemed  for  a  season 
that  God  through  thee  was  going  to  renew  the  face  of  the 
earth.  That  was  thy  morning.  Alas,  that  there  should  have 
been  an  evening  and  a  morning  to  thy  day !  At  least,  why 
did  not  God  make  such  a  day  cloudless,  if  it  could  not  be 
endless  ? 

We  have  here  to  study  Mr.  Beecher  simply  as  preacher. 
What,  in  this  capacity,  was  he?  Hozv  was  he  such?  These 
are  our  two  questions.  We  seek  to  analyze,  first,  his  power, 
and  then  the  secret  of  his  power. 

We  need  be  at  no  loss.  Mr.  Beecher  was  very  open 
with  the  public.  He  took  the  whole  world  into  his  confidence 
when,  in  his  Yale  lectures  on  preaching,  he  told  everything 
that  he  knew  himself  concerning  himself  as  preacher.  Never 
before  was  genius  more  communicative  as  to  its  own  mystery. 
It  was  a  revelation,  then  to  be  informed  that  the  mighty 
madness  of  Mr.  Beecher's  pulpit  oratory  had  so  self-con- 
scious and  so  intelligent  a  method  of  its  own.  Genius  ac- 
tually seemed  to  be  reducing  itself  to  the  terms  of  common 
sense. 

"  What  is  preaching?  "  Mr.  Beecher  began  by  asking.  The 
very  question  had  in  it  the  reaction  and  stimulus  of  orig- 
inality and  of  power.  The  answer  showed  that  Mr.  Beecher 
understood  perfectly  well  what  he  himself  sought  to  do  in 
the  pulpit;  whether  or  not  what  he  sought  there  to  do  was 
proper  preaching,  according  to  any  standard  deducible  from 
Scripture.  Mr.  Beecher  defined  preaching  by  its  object.  Its 
object,  he  said,  was  "  reconstructed  manhood."  This  for- 
mula, at  any  rate,  truly  states  Mr.  Beecher's  own  object  in 
his  pulpit  discourse. 

The  lecturer's  way  of  arriving  at  the  idea  of  what  he 
affirmed  thus  to  be  the  distinctive  object  of  preaching,  was 
characteristic,  instructively  characteristic,  of  the  man.  His 
path  of  approach  to  the  point  was  ostensibly  Scriptural; 
really,  it  was  "  subjective,"  to  use  a  philosopher's  word,  that 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER  1 1 

is,  individual,  personal,  independent.  Peter,  Mr.  Beecher 
said,  aimed  at  "  reconstructed  manhood," —  when,  on  the  day 
of  Pentecost,  he  opened  the  Christian  dispensation  of  preach- 
ing with  that  great  inaugural  sermon  of  his.  There  could 
scarcely  have  been  made  an  assertion  more  audaciously  inde- 
pendent of  fact.  The  fact  is,  that  v^^hat  Peter  then  aimed  at, 
he  himself  unmistakably  stated  to  be  —  what?  "Recon- 
structed manhood?"  No.  Anything  like  that?  No.  The 
conception  was  something  totally  different.  Peter's  object 
he  himself  says,  was  to  make  everybody  take  Jesus  Christ 
for  "  Lord  " — that  is,  for  master,  to  be  obeyed.  These  are 
the  words  in  which  he  reaches  the  conclusion,  and  states  the 
purpose  of  his  argument :  "  Therefore,  let  all  the  house  of 
Israel  know  assuredly  that  God  hath  made  that  same  Jesus 
whom  ye  have  crucified  both  Lord  and  Christ."  "  Recon- 
structed manhood "  might  indeed  result ;  but  what  Peter 
aimed  at  was  obedience  to  Christ  from  men,  not  "  recon- 
structed manhood."  The  difference  of  aim  and  aim  is  enor- 
mous; and  all  this  gulf  of  difference  yawns  between  Peter 
as  preacher  and  Mr.  Beecher  as  preacher.  Peter's  aim, 
namely,  obedience  to  Christ,  was  Paul's  aim,  too;  for  Paul 
expressly  says :  "  We  preach  Christ  Jesus  as  Lord."  Paul's 
aim,  and  Peter's  was  —  not  Mr.  Beecher's.  The  point  I  now 
make  is  a  point  of  prime  importance.  Let  me  insist  upon 
it  a  little. 

Mr.  Beecher,  while  he  still  lived,  became  perhaps  the  chief 
individual  formative  force  for  young  preachers  in  America. 
The  flood  of  his  popularity,  breaching  every  provincial  bar- 
rier of  reputation  and  fairly  overspreading  the  world,  made 
it  almost  useless,  at  least  for  the  moment,  to  offer  even  a 
suggestion  of  vital  defect  in  the  idea,  and  therefore  in  the 
method,  of  that  unique  and  extraordinary  preaching  which 
will  doubtless  always  hereafter  survive  as  one  of  the  greatest 
traditions  of  power  in  human  speech  within  the  memory  of 
men.  When,  however,  the  well-nigh  boundless  exuberance 
of  his  genius  and  vitality  was  offered  a  new  outlet  in  the 
Yale  lectureship  on  preaching,  and  Mr.   Beecher  thus  ap- 


12  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

peared  in  the  capacity  of  a  somewhat  more  formal  and  con- 
fessed teacher  of  preachers  —  and  this  as  widely  over  the 
world  as  his  vivid  and  brilliant  book  should  go  to  find  readers 
—  it  seemed  but  a  manful  loyalty  to  individual  convictions 
of  truth  frankly  and  respectfully  to  articulate  the  sense  which 
I  had  of  a  serious  insufficiency  in  Mr.  Beecher's  conception 
itself  of  preaching,  that  threatened  an  incalculable  injury  to 
the  cause  of  evangelism  at  large,  if  it  should  become  incor- 
porated into  the  theory  and  practice  of  a  generation  of  gospel 
ministers.  This  delicate  task  I  accordingly  undertook  at  the 
time,  in  a  public  expression,  which,  as  the  matter  involved 
is  so  fundamental  and  so  vital,  I  here,  in  substance,  repro- 
duce. 

Mr.  Beecher  in  his  Yale  lectures  disclaimed  being  a  pro- 
fessor of  homiletics.  He  even  modestly  declined  to  be  re- 
garded as  a  lecturer  on  preaching.  He  preferred  to  talk 
about  the  work  of  his  life  in  the  freedom  of  familiar  and, 
as  it  were,  confidential  conversation.  Such  was  the  engaging 
attitude  which  he  assumed  in  occupying  the  chair  of  that 
lectureship  on  preaching  at  Yale  which  is  inscribed  with  the 
clear  and  venerable  name  of  his  father.  I  shall  not,  there- 
fore, commit  the  mistake  of  attempting  to  stretch  his  half- 
autobiographic  confidences  on  the  Procrustean  bed  of  a 
scientific  homiletical  system.  Mr.  Beecher,  however,  in  these 
lectures,  perhaps  somewhat  unexpectedly  to  the  general 
public,  disclosed  himself  as  an  intelligent  and  self-conscious, 
far  more  than  a  blind  and  automatic,  elemental  force.  The 
fine  madness  of  his  genius  all  the  while,  so  it  seems,  obeyed 
a  method  of  its  own.  It  was  not  exclusively  a  divine  breath 
of  inspiration  blowing  where  it  listed  that  made  that  match- 
less eloquence  of  the  man.  It  was  partly,  too,  the  patient 
labor  and  calculable  result  of  art.  Mr.  Beecher  had  an  aim, 
and  he  strove  toward  it.  His  career  was  not  lucky.  It  was 
successful.  The  history  which  it  contains  of  his  success 
imparts  its  chief  value  to  the  lately  published  volume  of  his 
glowing  improvisations  on  preaching. 

It  would  be  foolish,  and  it  would  be  unfair,  to  treat  these 


HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER  1 3 

lectures  as  if  they  aspired  to  construct  a  dogmatic  homiletical 
system.  They  should  be  accepted  for  precisely  what  they 
are,  the  frank  autobiographical  disclosures  of  one  of  the 
greatest  and,  as  it  seems,  one  of  the  most  deliberately  artful 
or  artistic,  public  speakers  that  the  world  has  ever  seen.  So 
accepting  them,  we  may  yet  quite  legitimately  inquire,  with 
admiring  curiosity,  but  with  uncompromised  freedom, 
whether  the  end  which  this  wonderful  eloquence  proposed  to 
itself,  and  the  method  which  it  has  pursued,  are  the  true  end 
and  the  true  method  of  gospel  preaching.  Let  this,  for  the 
moment,  be  our  purpose. 

Our  question  is  simple.  Let  it  be  perfectly  unambiguous. 
It  is  not  whether  Mr.  Beecher's  art  of  public  speaking  was 
good  or  not.  That  question  would  be  ludicrously  too  late  to 
be  raised  to-day.  Mr.  Beecher  was  unquestionably  one  of 
the  very  greatest  of  all  masters  living  or  dead  of  men  in 
speech.  Our  question  is  not,  therefore,  whether  Mr.  Beech- 
er's public  speaking  was  a  true  model  in  oratory  or  not. 
Our  question  is  whether  Mr.  Beecher's  avowed  aim  in  his 
public  speaking  from  the  pulpit,  and  his  method  accordingly 
adopted,  are  the  true  aim  and  the  true  method  for  preaching. 
In  a  word,  did  Mr.  Beecher,  in  his  theory,  or  in  his  practice, 
give  the  right  answer  to  the  question  which  entitles  the  first 
lecture  of  his  volume,  viz.:  "What  is  Preaching?" 

I  quote  two  sentences  which  state,  as  sharply  as  it  is  any- 
where stated  in  the  course  of  the  lecture,  Mr.  Beecher's 
opinion  of  what  preaching  ought  to  be,  or  in  other  words, 
of  what  preaching  is,  according  to  the  Scriptural  idea: 

"The  thing  that  a  preacher  aims  at  all  the  while  is  recon- 
structed manhood  [Italics  Mr.  Beecher's],  a  nobler  idea  in  his 
congregation  of  how  people  ought  to  live,  and  what  they  ought 
to  be."  .  .  .  "If  you  will  look  through  the  New  Testament 
with  your  eye  on  that  point,  you  will  find  that  Paul  —  the  great- 
est of  all  preachers,  I  take  it  —  aimed  all  the  way  through,  and 
certainly  Peter,  in  his  famous  sermon  on  the  day  of  Pentecost, 
aimed  at  reconstructed  manhood." 


14  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

Now  any  one  who  has  thoughtfully  noticed  the  tenor  of 
Mr.  Beecher's  own  preaching  will  acknowledge  that  these 
sentences  truthfully  reveal  the  informing  spirit  of  his  public 
ministrj.  Mr.  Beecher's  aim  was  precisely  that  whose  state- 
ment he  emphasizes  with  Italic  letters,  namely,  "recon- 
structed manhood."  His  sermons  constantly  seek  to  present 
the  ideal  of  a  noble  and  beautiful  character,  and  they  con- 
stantly summon  men  to  the  endeavor  to  realize  the  ideal. 
Every  generous  sentiment  of  which  human  nature,  in  its 
best  unregenerate  estate,  is  capable,  is  sung  and  celebrated 
in  his  preaching.  Love,  honor,  gentleness,  purity,  truth  — 
these  magnetic  words  recur  with  endless  iteration  in  his  dis- 
course, recalling  the  hearer  perpetually  to  the  recollection 
of  his  own  best  thoughts,  and  tempting  him  irresistibly  to  a 
short  Sabbath-day  excursion  on  the  wings  of  lofty  aspira- 
tion. In  a  word,  whatever  eloquence,  advised  by  tact  and 
inspired  by  moral  fervor,  can  effect  toward  "  reconstructing  " 
the  fallen  nature  of  sinful  men  —  that  Mr.  Beecher's  preach- 
ing effected,  as  it  no  doubt  still  in  a  measure  effects.  I  have 
no  disposition,  certainly,  to  disparage  the  good  thus  eft'ected. 
It  is  for  God  alone  to  set  the  unalterably  true  appraisal  on 
the  work  of  each  one  of  us  all.  We  must  none  of  us  judge, 
in  the  case  either  of  ourselves  or  of  another,  before  the  time. 
But  it  is  unquestionably  proper  for  us  to  inquire.  Is  Mr. 
Beecher's  idea  of  preaching,  as  stated  in  his  words  and  illus- 
trated in  his  life,  the  Scriptural  idea?  Does  the  Bible  pro- 
pose "  reconstructed  manhood  "  as  the  true  aim  of  preach- 
ing? 

It  is  one  thing  to  pronounce  "  reconstructed  manhood " 
Si  result  that  may  be  expected  to  follow  from  preaching.  It 
is  quite  another  thing  to  pronounce  "  reconstructed  man- 
hood "  the  proper  aim  of  preaching.  The  difference  indeed 
is  enormous.  If  "  reconstructed  manhood "  is  to  be  con- 
sciously and  directly  aimed  at  by  a  preacher,  then  of  course 
there  is  room  in  that  preacher's  method  for  the  enticing 
words  of  man's  wisdom  which  Mr.  Beecher  knew  so  well 
how  to  use.     But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  something  else  than 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER  15 

"  reconstructed  manhood "  is  to  lead  the  preacher's  eye  as 
his  only  proper  conscious  aim,  then  the  resort  perhaps  must 
be  to  a  widely  different  quarter  for  the  power  that  shall 
make  preaching  effectual. 

As  already  said,  Mr.  Beecher  displayed  extraordinary 
temerity  in  hazarding  his  appeal  to  Peter's  Pentecostal  ser- 
mon for  confirmation  of  his  theory  of  the  aim  of  preaching. 
"  Certainly,"  he  shuts  up  his  eyes  and  blindly  says,  "cer- 
tainly," Peter  in  that  sermon  aimed  at  "  reconstructed  man- 
hood." We  turn  to  the  sermon,  and  find  this  to  be  the 
analysis  of  it.  Peter  begins  by  showing  the  absurdity  of  the 
charge  that  the  polyglot  preachers  of  that  miraculous  day 
were  merely  intoxicated  persons.  He  proceeds  to  explain 
that  on  the  contrary  they  were  simply  experiencing  a  ful- 
filment of  the  prophecy  of  Joel,  which  foretold  just  such 
manifestations  of  the  Divine  presence  and  power  among 
men.  He  next  recalls  to  the  recollection  of  the  multitude 
the  life  and  works  of  Jesus,  and  charges  home  upon  his 
hearers  the  damning  guilt  of  his  crucifixion.  Then  follows 
an  interpretation  of  a  Psalm  of  David  to  prove  that  its  refer- 
ence was  Messianic,  and  that  its  language  was  fulfilled  in 
the  dying  and  rising  of  Jesus.  It  was  the  risen  Jesus, 
ascended  now  to  the  throne  by  the  side  of  the  Father,  that 
had  poured  out  on  his  disciples  the  baptism  of  spiritual 
power  whose  effects  were  that  day  beheld.  Peter  closes  his 
sermon  with  these  words :  "  Therefore  let  all  the  house  of 
Israel  know  that  God  hath  made  that  same  Jesus,  whom  ye 
have  crucified,  both  Lord  and  Christ." 

This  is  absolutely  all  the  matter  contained  in  Peter's  ser- 
mon. And  yet  it  is  of  this  sermon  that  Mr,  Beecher  plucks 
heart  to  say,  "  Peter  certainly,  in  his  famous  sermon  on  the 
day  of  Pentecost,  aimed  at  reconstructed  manhood !  "  Of 
all  things  in  this  universe  to  find  in  such  a  sermon  — "  re- 
constructed manhood !  "  Now,  of  course,  Mr.  Beecher  had 
no  intention  of  being  disingenuous  when  he  made  so  rash 
an  assertion.  He  merely  had  vividly  in  mind  his  own  indi- 
vidual idea  of  what  preaching  should  be  —  it  occurred  to 


1 6  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

him  at  the  instant  that  here  was  a  good  Scriptural  instance 
that  ought  to  correspond  —  it  probably  did  correspond  —  at 
any  rate  he  would  have  it  correspond,  and  without  more  ado, 
presto  !  it  "  certainly  "  corresponded. 

It  is  quite  true,  however,  that  Peter's  Pentecostal  sermon 
furnishes  a  plain  hint  of  the  proper  aim  of  preaching.  The 
hint  is  found  in  the  last  sentence  of  the  sermon.  The  proper 
aim  of  preaching  there  disclosed  is  to  induce  men  to  ac- 
knowledge Christ's  lordship.  In  brief  phrase,  not  "  recon- 
structed manhood,"  but  obedience  to  Christ,  is  the  Scriptural 
and  the  safe,  the  only  Scriptural  and  the  only  safe,  aim  of 
right  preaching.  "  Reconstructed  manhood "  will  follow. 
But  that  is  the  corollary,  and  not  the  chief  proposition. 
Christ  first,  and  then  man.  The  earth  is  all  the  better  served 
by  suffering  the  sun  to  hold  the  centre  of  the  system. 

It  is  fair  to  Mr.  Beecher  to  assume  that  probably  when  he 
affirmed  "  reconstructed  manhood "  to  be  Paul's  aim  in 
preaching,  he  in  perfect  good  faith  founded  upon  that  passage 
of  Paul  in  Ephesians,  "  He  (Jesus  Christ)  gave  some  to  be 
apostles;  and  some,  prophets;  and  some,  evangelists;  and 
some,  pastors  and  teachers;  for  the  perfecting  of  the  saints, 
unto  the  work  of  ministering,  unto  the  building  up  of  the 
body  of  Christ:  till  we  all  attain  unto  the  unity  of  the  faith, 
and  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God,  unto  a  full  grown 
man,  unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of 
Christ."  But  Paul  was  not  here  stating  the  aim  he  had  in 
preaching;  he  was  stating  the  aim  Christ  had  in  furnishing 
his  church  with  the  various  forms  of  ministry  named.  In 
truth  what  Paul  here  said  had  no  respect  at  all  to  the 
natural,  the  unregenerate,  man  needing  to  be  "  reconstructed," 
but  respect  exclusively  to  the  man  now  already  "  recon- 
structed," the  regenerate  man,  the  Christian,  who  having 
been  started  right  needed  only  to  be  carried  forward  to  the 
point  of  perfection.  The  general  aim  of  Paul  in  his  preach- 
ing of  course  had  respect  not  simply  to  "  saints,"  that  is, 
persons  already  Christians,  but  also  to  sinners;  that  is,  per- 
sons needing  to  be  converted  into  Christians.     That  general 


HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER 


17 


aim  of  his  Paul  himself  comprehensively  and  sufficiently  stated 
in  declaring  that  he  was  apostle  for  the  obedience  of  Christ. 
Such  obedience  secured  would  infallibly  result  in  what  may 
rhetorically  be  called  "  reconstructed  manhood  " —  although 
that  form  of  expression  certainly,  with  perhaps  also  the  con- 
ception underlying,  is  much  more  like  Mr.  Beecher  than  it  is 
like  the  apostle  Paul.  In  treating  thus  this  particular  point 
I  have  tried  in  all  sincerity  to  indulge  Mr.  Beecher's  own 
rhetorical  figure  found  in  the  word  "  reconstructed  " ;  but  it 
has  been  difficult,  for  the  reason  that  Mr,  Beecher's  figure  is 
a  different  one  from  Paul's.  Mr.  Beecher's  figure  implies  a 
building  in  ruins  requiring  to  be  rebuilt;  Paul's  figure  im- 
plies a  living  organism  needing  nurture  and  development. 
The  thought  itself  is  as  different  as  is  the  figure  employed 
to  express  the  thought. 

But  did  Mr.  Beecher's  preaching  in  fact  conform  to  the 
idea  of  his  own  definition  ?  I  have  already  implied  my  own 
opinion  that  it  did.  Mr.  Beecher's  pulpit  discourse  is  singu- 
larly destitute,  more  destitute  than  probably  Mr.  Beecher 
himself,  with  all  his  extraordinary  self-knowledge,  was 
aware,  of  the  idea  of  absolute  submission  on  the  part  of  the 
human  will  to  authority  outside  itself.  Mr.  Beecher,  in  the 
very  act  of  deducing  his  definition  of  preaching,  uncon- 
sciously illustrated  the  insubordinate  instinct  and  habit  of 
his  own  mind.  He  treated  Scripture  in  the  manner  of  a 
man  \yho  never  had  dreamed  of  anything  but  having  his  own 
way  with  the  word  of  God,  and  making  it  mean  whatever  he 
chose.  The  master  idea  of  obedience  accordingly  he  missed. 
He  did  not  find  it,  because  he  did  not  bring  it.  There  is 
conspicuously,  glaringly,  absent,  and  that  not  only  in  this 
Yale  lecture,  but  throughout  the  body  of  Mr.  Beecher's  pulpit 
discourses,  the  one  idea  fundamental  and  paramount  in  New 
Testament  teaching,  namely,  the  idea  of  obedience  to  Christ. 
Strange,  too,  it  seems  that  this  should  be  so ;  for  Mr.  Beecher 
held  on,  in  singular  inconsistency  with  himself,  to  the  belief 
of  the  divinity  of  Christ. 

Of  course,  I  am  perfectly  aware  that  I  make  a  serious 
B 


l^' 


i8  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

criticism  on  Mr.  Beecher  in  saying  that  he  failed  to  teach 
obedience  to  Christ.  But  I  make  my  criticism  deHberately, 
and  I  have  even  hitherto  guarded  myself  needlessly  in  mak- 
ing it.  For  in  fact  the  fault  in  Mr.  Beecher  was  worse  than 
a  negative,  it  was  a  positive,  fault.  He  not  only  failed  to 
teach  obedience;  he  taught  insubordination  instead  of 
obedience. 

Let  me  not  be  misunderstood.  Mr.  Beecher  taught  a  great 
many  things  that  Christ  taught.  He  preached  duties,  and 
he  preached  them  with  variety  and  with  power,  less  perhaps 
as  obligations  of  conscience,  than  as  condescensions  of 
nobleness.  But  Christ  taught  obedience  to  himself,  and 
this  article  of  Christ's  teaching,  the  capital  thing  in  it,  the 
distinctive  thing,  Mr.  Beecher  managed  to  miss.  Mr. 
Beecher's  morality  —  I  mean  the  morality  he  preached  — 
was  a  good  morality  in  the  main,  except  for  the  lack  in  it 
of  the  saving  principle  of  obedience  due  to  Christ  as  Master. 
This  lacking,  it  was  not  a  true  gospel  morality. 

"  What  is  Christ  to  me  ?  "  is  the  title  of  a  sermon  of  Mr. 
Beecher's,  preached  in  1873.  I  have  just  looked  this  over 
—  to  find  that  in  answering  the  question  of  his  title,  Mr. 
Beecher  has  made  exactly  nothing  whatever  of  that  relation 
of  Christ  to  the  human  soul  which  Christ  himself,  and 
Christ's  apostles,  made  the  central  one  of  all  relations, 
namely,  that  of  Lord.  And  in  Mr.  Beecher's  text,  "  Christ " 
is  not  even  named  at  all,  except  as  "  Lord." 

Another  sermon  of  Mr.  Beecher's,  preached  in  1874,  is 
entitled  "  St.  Paul's  Creed."  Now  Paul  wrote  himself  down 
"  servant "  of  Jesus  Christ.  He  said  his  mission  was  to 
bring  men  to  "  obedience "  among  all  the  nations.  He 
taught  the  bringing  of  "  every  thought  into  captivity  to  the 
obedience  of  Christ."  He  described  his  way  of  preaching 
Christ  to  be  the  preaching  of  him  as  Lord.  He  described  a 
saved  man  to  be  one  who  confessed  Jesus  as  Lord.  The 
idea  of  personal  obedience  to  Christ  is  the  regnant  thought 
of  this  man's  life.  His  "  creed "  is  obedience  to  Christ. 
Virtue  was  nothing,  if  virtue  was  not  obedience.     For  what- 


HENRY  WARD  B  EEC  HER 


19 


ever  we  do,  Paul  teaches,  we  are  to  do  it  to  the  Lord;  that 
is,  as  obedience. 

But  what  does  Mr,  Beecher  teach,  nominally  discussing 
"  St.  Paul's  creed  ? "  Does  he  make  "  St.  Paul's  creed  "  con- 
sist comprehensively  of  the  article  of  obedience  to  Christ? 
No.  Does  he  make  "  St.  Paul's  creed  "  contain  the  article 
of  obedience  to  Christ?  No.  Does  he  at  least  carefully 
abstain  from  anything  to  conflict  with  this  idea?  Read  and 
judge.     Mr.  Beecher  says: 

"  All  society,  all  religion,  all  churches,  all  institutions,  come  as 
servants  to  him  [man],  who  is  the  master  of  them  .  .  .  and 
who  is  independent  of  them  —  or  can  be,  or  ought  to  be,  if  he  is 
not." 

Again : 

"  Paul  .  .  .  cared  for  nothing  so  much  as  for  that  ennobled 
manhood  which  is  the  result  of  the  divine  influence  upon  the 
human  soul.  .  .  .  Paul  was  the  apostle  of  manhood  —  man- 
hood in  Christ  Jesus  —  He  being  both  the  model  and  the  inspira- 
tion." 

"  Apostle  of  manhood  " —  Paul !  That  is  Mr.  Beecher's  con- 
ception of  Paul ;  but  it  is  not  Paul's  conception  of  himself. 
Paul's  conception  of  his  own  apostleship  was  that  of 
"  apostleship  unto  obedience."  Christ  to  him  was,  indeed, 
as  to  Mr.  Beecher,  "  model  "  and  "  inspiration," —  but  more, 
far  more,  he  was  Lord. 

"  If,"  Mr.  Beecher  asks,  "  a  man  becomes  a  Christian 
outside  of  a  church,  must  he  not  come  into  it?  "  His  answer 
is:  "If  he  wishes  to  —  not  otherwise."  In  short,  Obey 
yourself  —  no  matter  about  obeying  Christ.  And  this  in  a 
sermon  on  "  St.  Paul's  Creed  "  ! 

But  Mr.  Beecher  is  "very  bold."    He  says: 

"  In  regard  to  ordinances,  those  from  which  you  can  abstract 
benefit,  those  which  do  you  good,  observe.  If  ordinances  come 
to  you  and  say,  '  What  can  we  do  for  you  ? '  and  you  see  nothing 


20  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

that  they  can  do  for  you,  they  retire.    They  are  not  obligatory 
on  you." 

Christ  says :  "  Do  this  in  remembrance  of  me."  Mr. 
Beecher  says :  That  is  "  not  obligatory  on  you  "  ! 

Readers  might  well  doubt  —  did  Mr.  Beecher  ever  really 
teach  thus?  I  therefore  explain  that  all  the  citations  made 
in  this  paper  are  from  authorized  editions,  in  volume,  of 
Mr.  Beecher's  sermons,  w^ith  the  single  exception  of  the  one 
next  to  follow^,  which  is  from  a  report  in  the  columns  of  the 
"  New  York  Tribune,"  a  journal,  at  the  time  of  the  report, 
recognized  as,  for  matters  pertaining  to  his  interests,  a  kind 
of  organ  of  Mr.  Beecher. 

The  spirit  exemplified  in  the  foregoing  quoted  expressions, 
does  not  by  exception  belong  to  that  sermon  alone  from 
which  the  expressions  were  drawn.  It  runs  through  the 
whole  course  of  Mr.  Beecher's  preaching,  from  the  begin- 
ning to  the  end.  It  naturally  grew  more  and  more  pro- 
nounced, as  the  years  went  by;  and  it  took,  perhaps,  a 
sudden  start  into  violence  toward  the  last ;  but  it  was  present 
from  the  first,  and  it  never  for  a  moment  was  absent.  Mr. 
Beecher  never  preached,  he  would  seem  never  to  have 
known,  Christ  Jesus  as  Lord. 

You  may  say,  "  Mr.  Beecher's  idea  of  love  to  Christ 
superseded  with  him  the  idea  of  obedience,  was,  indeed,  the 
Moses'  rod  to  all  other  ideas  whatever  of  human  relation  to 
Christ  and  swallowed  them  up."  I  will  not  dispute  or  ques- 
tion the  greatness  of  the  idea  of  love  to  Christ,  in  Mr. 
Beecher's  conception.  The  same  idea  was  great  also  with 
Peter,  with  Paul,  and  with  John;  but  with  no  one  of  these 
did  it  swallow  up  the  idea  of  obedience;  or,  indeed,  make 
that  idea  anything  less  than  the  master  idea  of  their  teach- 
ing. Nay,  it  was  the  "  apostle  of  love,"  so-called,  himself, 
it  was  John,  who  said :  "  This  is  the  love  of  God  that  we 
keep  his  commandments :"  and,  "  Hereby  we  know  that  we 
love  the  children  of  God,  when  we  love  God  and  do  his  com- 
mandments."    Love   as   a   sentiment   is  good;   but   love  as 


HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER  21 

obedience  is  the  gospel  idea.  Mere  effusive  affection,  Christ 
seemed  even  to  check,  when  he  taught :  "  He  that  hath  my 
commandments  and  keepeth  them,  he  it  is  that  loveth  me." 
It  was  as  if  Christ  had  said:  "  Do  not  protest  your  affection. 
Convert  your  affection  into  obedience." 

But  Mr.  Beecher  had  great  faith  in  protestations  of  affec- 
tion. How  great,  let  this  one  following  example  of  utter- 
ance, on  his  part,  suffice  to  show.  The  passage  to  be  quoted 
is,  I  doubt  not,  as  sublime  a  thing  in  the  passionate  elo- 
quence of  mere  sentiment,  as  the  oratory  of  all  the  ages  could 
produce.  Mr.  Beecher  was  in  the  midst  of  the  most  dread- 
ful experience  of  his  life.  Sunday  after  Sunday,  throughout 
that  protracted  agony  of  exposure  and  of  suspense,  this 
superhuman  man  stood  in  his  pulpit  and  preached  more  as 
if  the  sky  was  serene  over  his  head,  than  as  if  the  elements 
about  him  were  dissolving.  I  describe  what  was  apparently 
the  case.  To  the  deeply  considering  mind,  the  particular 
passage  now  about  to  be  shown  is  full  of  the  interior  per- 
sonal passionate  anguish  of  the  speaker.  Did  ever,  think 
you,  before,  out  of  the  depths,  a  sinking  soul  send  up  a  cry 
like  this  of  hope  refusing  to  despair? — a  cry  how  intense, 
bursting  into  imaginative  expression  how  splendid ! 

"  When  I  come  up  before  the  Eternal  Judge  and  say,  all 
aglow :  '  My  Lord  and  my  God,*  will  he  turn  to  me  and  say : 
.  .  .  'You  did  not  come  up  the  right  road;  .  .  .  go  down.' 
I,  to  the  face  of  Jehovah,  will  stand  and  say:  'God!  I  won't 
go  to  hell ;  I  will  go  to  heaven.  I  love  Thee.  Now  damn  me  if 
thou  canst.  I  love  Thee."  And  God  shall  say,  and  the  heavens 
flame  with  double  and  triple  rainbows,  and  echo  with  joy:  'Dost 
thou  love?    Enter  in  and  be  forever  blessed.'    Let  us  pray." 

Is  it  not  the  sublimity  of  audacity?  And  is  it  not  the 
audacity  of  despair? 

When  the  mind  recovers  itself  and  becomes  undazzled 
from  the  blinding  effect  of  such  sudden  magnificence  in 
imagination,  it  perceives  clearly  that  here  is  a  highly  rhe- 
torical expression  of  what,  throughout,  is  Mr.  Beecher's  gov- 


22  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

erning  thought,  namely,  that  Jove  as  a  sentiment,  an  emotion 
in  distinction  from  love  as  obedience  to  God,  is  the  ideal  to 
aim  at.  I  say  nothing  against  this  thought;  I  need,  indeed, 
say  nothing  whatever  about  it,  except  that  it  is  not  the  ideal 
presented  in  Scripture. 

We  have  thus  sufficiently  answered  the  first  of  the  two 
questions  that  we  began  by  proposing  to  ourselves  respect- 
ing Mr.  Beecher, —  namely,  What  was  he?  We  find  that  — 
to  make  a  not  unreal,  though  a  paradoxical  distinction  —  he 
was  a  pulpit  orator,  but  not  a  preacher. 

Our  second  question  asks.  How  was  he  such?  What  was 
the  secret  of  his  power? 

To  this,  the  first  point  of  reply  is,  Genius.  If  ever  in  the 
world  a  man  had  the  orator's  genius,  Mr.  Beecher  had  it. 
I  know  that  this  is  not  analysis,  but  only  avoidance  of 
analysis,  of  the  secret  of  Mr.  Beecher's  eloquence.  It  is 
nevertheless  the  first  thing  and  the  chief  thing,  necessary 
to  be  said.  I  fully  believe  that  nowhere  yet  in  the  tide  of 
time  has  there  appeared  on  the  planet  a  mightier  master 
of  men  by  speech  than  Henry  Ward  Beecher.  Genius  is  the 
explanation,  and  the  explanation  does  not  explain.  He  did 
it  because  he  could  do  it,  and  he  could  do  it  because  he  had 
the  power,  and  the  name  of  the  power  is  genius. 

But  Mr,  Beecher's  genius  had  its  own  elements  and  its 
own  accompaniments.  What  were  these?  One  accompani- 
ment was  a  well-attempered,  wonderfully  elastic,  wonder- 
fully responsive,  body.  This  he  cared  for  scrupulously,  to 
maintain  it  at  the  highest  point  of  effectiveness.  His  voice 
was  a  living  instrument,  in  native  power  unsurpassed,  and 
never  impaired  through  ill-health  in  the  owner.  Every 
muscle  of  his  flesh,  every  bone  and  nerve  and  sinew  of  his 
frame,  the  very  blood  in  throat  and  cheek  and  brow,  was 
absolutely  obedient  to  the  demand  of  the  orator;  and  the 
demand  of  the  orator  was  immense,  for  Mr.  Beecher's  in- 
stinct of  mimicry  was  boundless.  From  long  habit  on  Mr. 
Beecher's  part,  of  absolute  command  over  audiences,  his  face 
grew  leonine  in  expression,  and  the  leonine  expression  itself 


HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER  2-^ 

was  constantly  more  and  more  a  means  of  such  command. 
Audiences  love  to  be  mastered  —  by  a  master ;  and  they  easily 
recognize  a  master  by  his  looks. 

Such  were  the  physical  accompaniments  of  Mr.  Beecher's 
oratoric  genius.  The  elements  of  it,  even  to  enumerate, 
were  long.  For  what  possible  element  was  lacking?  I 
know  of  none.  Moral  height?  No,  or  at  least  apparently 
not  —  in  his  prime.  Nay,  his  moral  height,  real  or  apparent, 
was  one  of  the  kingliest  elements  of  his  power.  He  swayed 
men,  because  he  seemed  to  sway  them  from  above.  What 
an  imagination  was  his !  What  an  intelligence !  And  what 
a  pair  these  twain  made,  working  together !  He  took  up, 
what  masses  of  thought,  and  lifted  them  aloft,  to  what 
luminous  heights !  What  light  streamed  on  them,  what 
colors  played  about  them  —  where,  like  the  white  Alps  in 
sunshine,  they  hung  glittering,  held  in  the  hand  of  his  power, 
for  the  delighted  contemplation  of  men !  His  fancy,  too, 
how  beautiful  and  how  sportive,  it  was !  What  blithe 
humor  enlivened  his  speech !  What  exquisite  pathos  touched 
it  to  tears !  Of  various  knowledge,  what  wealth !  What 
range  of  all  human  sympathy !  What  infallible  ready  re- 
sponsiveness to  the  feeling,  infallibly  divined,  of  the  hearer ! 
What  easy  flow  of  change  from  mood  to  mood !  What  un- 
erring aim  of  retort,  "  incredible  how  swift ! "  What 
affluence  of  language,  rolling  out  inexhaustibly,  like  an  At- 
lantic set  astream  —  affluence,  not  simply  in  words,  but  in 
constructions,  endlessly  different,  and  often  surprisingly 
beautiful,  as  in  a  kaleidoscope !  The  greatest  pulpit  orator 
that  the  world  ever  saw  —  who  might  also  have  been  the 
greatest  preacher! 

We  have  thus  simply  named  some  of  the  chief  elements 
that  entered  into  the  extraordinary  oratoric  genius  of  Mr. 
Beecher.  But  side  by  side  with  genius  in  Mr.  Beecher,  sat 
another  gift  of  his,  worthy  to  be  named  as  almost,  if  not 
quite,  an  equal  power.  I  mean  his  common  sense.  Never 
before  did  so  much  common  sense  mate  with  so  much  genius, 
in  any  of  the  sons  of  men.    The  sails  of  genius  in  him,  with 


24  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

always  a  reef  more  to  unfurl,  could  yet  never  spread  wide 
enough  to  gather,  in  any  strongest  gale  of  inspiration,  so 
much  breath  as  to  make  the  gait  of  the  vessel  through  the 
sea  one  moment  unsteady.  The  ballast  of  common  sense 
was  always  sufficient  to  counterweigh  what  were  else  the 
over-buoyant  headiness  of  genius. 

This  steadying  effect  from  preternatural  common  sense 
was  seen,  not  simply  on  any  particular  occasion,  however 
unexpectedly  trying  the  occasion  might  be,  of  Mr.  Beecher's 
speaking.  It  was  equally  marked  in  the  choice  of  a  con- 
tinuous oratoric  line  to  be  pursued,  and  indeed  in  the  gen- 
eral conduct  of  affairs.  His  common  sense  enabled  him 
both  to  guess  instantaneously  and  infallibly  the  present 
temper  of  an  audience,  but  also  to  read  the  signs  of  the  times 
and  know  in  season  what  course  on  his  part  would  put  him 
into  the  true  current  of  popular  tendency.  He  never  wasted 
much  time  or  strength  in  beating  up  against  wind  and  tide. 
He  felt  for  the  current  and  found  it.  The  stream  of  "  evo- 
lution "  had  him  at  last  for  a  conscious,  not  an  unconscious, 
swimmer  on  its  breast. 

The  undiscriminating  admirers  and  disciples  of  Mr. 
Beecher  will  be  scandalized  at  statements  like  these  last. 
Such  persons  honestly  suppose  that  Mr.  Beecher  was  exactly 
the  opposite  of  what  is  thus  described.  They  will  in- 
stinctively exclaim  in  protest :  "  Why,  look  at  Mr.  Beecher's 
career.  What  was  it  from  beginning  to  end,  but  fighting 
against  odds?  He  started  in  a  western  locality  where  vices 
such  as  drinking,  gambling,  licentiousness,  ran  riot,  and  he 
denounced  them."  Why,  yes.  What  minister,  what  moral- 
ist, of  the  nineteenth  century  in  America,  would  not  have 
done  the  same?  But  he  battled  against  slavery.  Yes,  in  a 
North  where  the  tide  was  already  running  strong  against 
that  iniquity.  "  He  fought  the  anti-American  wild  beast 
demons  in  England  during  our  Civil  War."  Yes,  with  splen- 
did courage  and  with  splendid  skill.  But  the  current  that 
he  thus  stemmed  there,  was  not,  there  even,  the  current  that 
was  to  prevail,  and  well  he  knew  it.    This  is  not  detraction 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER  25 

from  Mr.  Beecher's  true  merit;  it  is  simple  statement  and 
interpretation  of  fact. 

I  repeat,  Mr.  Beecher  felt  for  the  current  —  perhaps  I  had 
better  say,  felt  the  current  —  and  he  found  it,  he  thought,  in 
"  evolution."  Into  the  current  of  evolutionary  thought  he 
threw  himself  during  his  closing  years  with  complete  self- 
abandonment.  He  thus  did  consciously  what  unconsciously 
he  had  been  doing  all  his  life.  I  heard  once  a  distinguished 
disciple  and  defender  of  Beecher  say  he  had  himself  come 
to  believe  that  whatever  tendency  at  a  given  moment  was 
the  prevailing  tendency,  was  thereby  proved  to  be  the  right 
tendency  and  he  would  not  resist  it.  This  is,  I  suppose,  the 
legitimate  logical  stand  for  a  consistent  evolutionist  to  take ; 
and  the  distinguished  disciple  and  defender  of  Beecher  to 
whom  I  refer  seeks,  I  believe,  to  be  a  consistent  evolutionist. 
To  say  then,  of  a  given  man,  that  he  feels  for  the  current  to 
swim  with  it,  ought,  for  that  disciple  and  defender  of 
Beecher  at  least,  to  be  very  much  like  simply  saying  of 
the  man  in  question  that  he  is  a  good  evolutionist. 

It  was  the  union  and  equality  of  genius  and  common 
sense  in  Mr.  Beecher,  which  made  him  the  popular  leader 
that  he  was  —  or  that  he  seemed.  His  genius  alone  might 
have  separated  him  from  the  people  and  prevented  his  lead- 
ing them,  or  at  least  prevented  his  seeming  to  lead  them. 
But  his  common  sense  harnessed  him  to  them.  In  what 
other  man  ever  was  the  superiority  of  genius  so  effaced  by 
the  universal  fellowship  and  equality  of  common  sense? 

Was  Mr.  Beecher's  taste  a  trait  of  his  genius  or  of  his 
common  sense?  For  taste  in  Mr.  Beecher  was  only  less 
remarkable  than  his  other  intellectual  gifts.  It  was  not  an 
unerring  taste,  it  was  not  a  supremely  controlling  taste.  But 
the  teeming  luxuriance  of  Mr.  Beecher's  mind  being  con- 
sidered, and  the  tropical  heat  of  his  temperament,  with  the 
fact  besides  of  his  uttering  himself  so  profusely,  and  on 
occasions  often  so  exciting  and  so  preclusive  of  ripe  pre- 
meditation —  all  this,  I  say,  being  considered,  the  freedom 
of    Mr.    Beecher    from    sins    against    good    taste    must    be 


26  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

reckoned  remarkable.  There  was  a  strain  of  infinite  deli- 
cacy in  the  poetic  element  of  his  genius,  which  guarded  him 
at  this  point;  and  his  common  sense  too  had  a  fineness  that 
was  almost  equivalent  to  good  taste.  It  was  generally  his 
humor  that  sinned,  when  the  sin  was  esthetic.  But  I  have 
no  doubt  that  his  virtue  of  repression  here  was  greater  than 
most  men's,  by  as  much  as  his  humorous  temptation  was 
greater. 

It  was  an  instinct  of  taste,  an  innate  sense  of  propriety, 
far  more  than  it  was  any  strict  educational  culture,  which 
kept  Mr.  Beecher's  diction,  on  the  whole  so  pure  and  so 
correct.  His  felicity  of  diction  was  another  matter.  That 
was  a  gift  of  his  genius.  I  have  lately  been  reading  his 
volume  of  sermons  on  "  Evolution  and  Religion  " —  with  the 
utmost  repudiation  for  its  teaching  and  with  the  utmost 
admiration  for  the  intellectual  power  displayed.  I  do  not 
hesitate  to  say  that  Goethe,  for  example,  at  an  equal  age, 
showed  incomparably  less  breadth  of  mental  grasp,  incom- 
parably less  splendor  of  poetic  imagination.  Amid  the  opu- 
lence of  language  at  the  speaker's  command,  how  rarely  a 
note  of  verbal  infelicity  is  struck !  "  Sectaries  "  for  "  sects," 
in  one  place,  "  cure,"  as  if  the  word  meant  "  minister,"  in- 
stead of  the  "  minister's  office,"  were  exceptional,  almost 
solitary,  slips  observed.  "  Teleologic,"  misused  as  if  it  meant 
chronologically  final,  occurs  in  another  volume  of  sermons. 

Of  course,  one  always  describes  somewhat  ideally  in  de- 
scribing a  man  of  genius.  Mr.  Beecher  was  by  no  means 
invariably  at  his  best.  He  also  had  to  fall  back  on  habit,  or 
even  occasionally  on  trick,  when  his  inspiration  failed  him. 
He  privately  told  a  young  preacher  once,  who  told  the  present 
writer,  "  If  you  can't  think  of  anything  to  say,  bawl."  There 
were  times  when  Mr.  Beecher  himself  practiced  on  his  own 
precept.  But  it  was  seldom  indeed  that  he  failed  of  some- 
thing to  say  which  did  not  need  to  be  "  bawled."  It  was 
no  bawling,  but  real  detonation  of  thunder  carrying  thunder- 
bolt, when,  upon  occasion,  after  running  along  for  a  time 
on  a  slender  line  of  vocal  sound  —  and  then,  perhaps,  with 


HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER 


27 


finally  an  ominous  pause  interposed  —  he  would  deliver  a 
sudden,  hard,  loud  clap  of  voice  that  startled  you  like  a  blow. 
I  remember  witnessing  in  Plymouth  Church  now  many  years 
ago  a  remarkable  effect  of  this  sort.  A  woman  sat  near  me 
eyeing  the  speaker  in  fixed  and  eager  attention.  Mr.  Beecher 
reached  a  point  of  climax  to  be  emphasized,  when  he  paused 
and  stood  silent,  visibly  gathering  the  eloquent  blood  into 
his  throat,  his  cheeks,  his  temples,  until  it  seemed  as  if  they 
must  burst  with  the  pressure.  Then  he  exploded  his  voice, 
with  a  moral,  not  a  physical,  effect  so  terrific,  that  the  woman 
to  whom  I  have  referred,  involuntarily,  with  an  audible  ex- 
clamation, hid  her  face  in  her  hands  as  if  from  a  blinding 
flash  of  lightning.  If  that  had  been  a  "  bawl,"  the  effect 
would  have  been  physical,  not  moral,  and  the  woman  would 
then  have  clapped  her  hands  to  her  ears  instead  of  to  her 
eyes. 

My  subject  is  endless,  but  my  paper  must  not  be,  and  I 
shall  have  to  crowd  one  thing  upon  another  in  some  con- 
fusion. Every  habitual  public  speaker  must  have,  consciously 
or  unconsciously,  some  system  of  truth  or  of  theory  to  serve 
him  as  a  sort  of  framework  to  his  habitual  thought;  and 
Mr.  Beecher  had  his.  Theology,  as  a  system  to  serve  for 
such  framework,  he  despised  and  spurned.  In  place  of  the- 
ology he  took  up  —  phrenology.  No  one  can  wisely  read 
Mr.  Beecher  without  distinct  knowledge  of  this  fact  as  a 
clue  for  his  guidance  through  the  maze.  Mr.  Beecher's  ser- 
mons might,  many  of  them,  be  regarded  as  popular  lectures 
in  applied  phrenology,  that  is,  phrenology  applied  to  the 
conduct  of  life,  or  rather  to  the  "  reconstruction  "  of  "  man- 
hood." He  was  constantly  talking,  in  the  phrenological 
sense,  of  the  "  higher  "  and  the  "  lower  "  "  ranges  "  of  feel- 
ing. If  he  had  occasion  to  speak  of  pride,  it  would  very 
likely  be  by  simply  naming  its  phrenological  location  at  "  the 
top  of  the  head." 

I  trust  that  I  shall  seem  to  have  rendered  to  Mr.  Beecher's 
magnificent  gifts  a  not  grudging  ascription  of  praise.  I 
have  limited  myself,  as,  from  self-evident  propriety  of  pres- 


28  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

ent  purpose,  was  desirable,  to  considering  Mr.  Beecher 
as  preacher.  He  did  a  great  deal  of  orator's  work  outside  of 
the  pulpit,  as  miscellaneous  and  political  lecturer.  The 
standing-place  was  then  different,  but  the  man  and  the  teach- 
ing were  essentially  the  same.  If  he  did  not  use  the  plat- 
form as  a  pulpit,  he  practiced  the  converse  of  this,  and  made 
of  the  pulpit  a  platform.  Except  for  certain  accessories  of 
the  sermon,  the  sermon  was  not  widely  different  from  the 
lecture  or  the  speech. 

Mr.  Beecher's  historic  place  and  opportunity  were  much, 
very  much,  to  his  career.  He  appeared  at  the  very  moment 
when  a  voice  proclaiming  freedom  of  every  sort,  a  jubilee  of 
"  unrestrained  will  " —  I  quote  his  own  remarkable  phrase 
used  by  him  to  describe  a  leading  characteristic  of  his  ideal 
man  —  at  the  very  moment,  I  say,  when  a  voice  proclaiming 
this  was  the  sweetest  music  that  the  uneasy  ear  of  a  restless 
and  rebellious  generation  could  possibly  hear.  It  happened, 
too,  to  be  a  moment  when  freedom  of  a  certain  sort  was  the 
thing  most  of  all  needed,  as  well  as  desired.  But  freedom 
that  we  did  not  need,  however  much  we  desired  it,  freedom 
from  the  binding  force  of  obligation  to  obey  God,  as  God 
speaks  authoritatively  in  his  holy  word,  this  insurrection  of 
"  unrestrained  will,"  was  unhappily  also  involved  in  that 
audacious  scheme  of  human  independence,  of  which  nearly 
every  lecture  or  sermon  of  Mr.  Beecher's  was  a  more  or 
less  open  manifesto.  He  told  men  to  be  good  and  noble  — 
according  to  their  own  higher  feelings.  Above  all  things 
else,  do  as  you  please  —  still,  please  to  be  noble.  Nothing 
is  "  obligatory,"  but  goodness  is  a  great  privilege.  Love 
and  you  need  not  obey. 

A  delightful  gospel,  and  Mr.  Beecher  preached  it  delight- 
fully. It  is  not  indeed  the  gospel  of  Christ;  but  it  pleased 
men,  for  it  taught  men  to  please  themselves. 

Mr.  Beecher's  work  may  be  summed  up  in  the  one  state- 
ment that  he  powerfully  reinforced  a  human  tendency, 
already  overwhelmingly  strong,  moving  in  the  direction  of 
"  unrestrained  will."     What  the  age  needed  was  a  Master. 


HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER 


29 


What  the  age  wanted,  was  "  unrestrained  will."  Mr.  Beecher 
offered  it  what  it  wanted,  and  not  what  it  needed.  The  work 
of  any  man  who  does  that,  splendid  howsoever  in  seeming  it 
be,  must  be  very  wastefully  winnowed  from  if  not  even  alto- 
gether "  burned  up "  before  the  time  of  the  consumma- 
tion foretold,  when  "  to  Him  every  knee  shall  bow,  and  every 
tongue  confess  that  Jesus  Christ  is  Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God 
the  Father." 


II 

THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

It  is  right  to  say,  in  preface  to  the  following  criticism, 
that  it  did  not  command  the  approval  of  the  distinguished 
subject  of  it.  I  have  under  my  hand  as  I  write  these  words 
an  autograph  letter  from  him  in  which,  without  descending 
to  any  specifications  of  error  in  statement,  he  pronounces  the 
paper  in  question  briefly  and  comprehensively  "  a  lie."  The 
letter  referred  to  was  written  in  answer  to  a  request  from  the 
publishers  of  the  periodical  in  which  the  criticism  appeared 
—  a  request  such  as  was  sent  alike  to  each  one  of  all  the 
preachers  still  living  that  were  criticised  —  that  he  would 
kindly  point  out  any  mistake  in  statement  of  fact  concerning 
him  into  which  the  critic  might  inadvertently  have  fallen. 
Dr.  Talmage  further  says  in  the  same  letter :  "  An  elaborate 
article  with  dates  and  pages  of  history  stated  was  sent  me 
just  after  the  scurrilous  stuff  was  printed,  showing  that  I 
was  right  in  every  case  and  the  author  in  the  *  Homiletic ' 
was  wrong.  But  I  never  printed  the  reply."  I  thought  it 
only  fair  that  Dr.  Talmage  should  enjoy  whatever  benefit 
might  result  to  him  from  my  readers'  seeing  his  energetic 
repudiation  of  the  criticism  here  to  follow,  as  also  the  manner 
in  which  he  supports  that  repudiation.  It  should  be  added 
that  the  statements  copied  from  "  The  Sun  "  newspaper,  in 
the  criticism  as  was  given,  could  have  had  no  part  in  excit- 
ing the  indignant  denial  from  Dr.  Talmage  of  all  truth  to 
the  criticism  —  for  the  simple  reason  that  those  statements 
were  not  contained  in  the  criticism  as  first  published. 

"  The  Homiletic  Review,"  presumably  by  way  of  furnish- 
ing a  counterweight  to  the  criticism,  very  good-naturedly 
C  33 


34  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

published  soon  after  a  highly  laudatory  article  on  Dr.  Tal- 
mage  which,  I  make  no  doubt,  he  could  accept  as  more  closely 
approximating  the  real  truth  in  the  case. 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  false  statements  or  false 
judgments  contained  in  the  criticism,  they  lacked  one  element 
at  least  necessary  to  constitute  a  "  lie  " ;  there  vk^as,  on  the 
part  of  the  critic,  no  intention  to  deceive.  The  quite  friendly, 
though  to  be  sure  not  wholly  admiring,  spirit  in  which  the 
critic  approached  in  this  case  his  task,  may  perhaps  best  be 
shown  by  reproducing  here  a  few  paragraphs  from  an  article 
which  I  printed,  at  the  time  in  a  newspaper,  descriptive  of 
the  occasion  when  I  went  to  hear  Dr.  Talmage,  for  the  ex- 
press purpose  of  preparing  myself  better  to  do  him  justice 
in  the  criticism  then  about  to  be  written.  On  that  occasion 
I  could  not  but  be  preoccupied  with  the  thought  of  the  phe- 
nomenon confronting  me,  and  I  began  my  description  with 
certain  reflections  that  were  forced  upon  my  mind ;  and  here, 
in  part,  is  what  I  wrote: 

Dr.  Talmage  has  a  more  numerous  hearing  than  any  other 
preacher  whatever  on  the  American  continent.  If  readers, 
too,  were  to  be  counted  hearers,  of  a  preacher,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  say  that  Dr.  Talmage's  audience  is  quite  the 
most  numerous  in  the  world.  I  was  told  by  a  man  who  ought 
to  know,  that  six  hundred  different  newspapers  regularly 
print  his  sermons,  and  that  the  carefully  calculated  number  of 
his  regular  readers  may  be  rounded  off  at  an  aggregate  of 
fourteen  millions.  You  may  reduce  this  staggering  estimate 
by  one-half,  and  you  will  still  have  a  sufficiently  imposing  sum 
total.  Mr.  Spurgeon's  hearing  cannot  probably  equal  it ;  and 
certainly  that  of  no  other  preacher  since  the  world  began  has 
ever  approached  such  a  figure. 

The  wise  student  of  eloquence  may  well  be  seriously  dis- 
posed to  inquire  what  is  the  secret  of  popular  acceptance  so 


THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE  35 

remarkable.  After  two  decades  of  years,  during  which  the 
increase  of  pubHc  attention  to  a  preacher  has  been  steadily 
maintained,  it  is,  indeed,  perhaps  not  too  late  still  to  raise 
the  question.  Is  he  worthy  to  be  thus  heeded?  But  it  is  more 
modest,  and  not  less  likely  to  be  useful,  to  raise,  rather,  the 
question.  How  have  these  phenomenal  results  been  produced  ? 
I  do  not  attempt  here  to  answer  the  question,  but  it  is  a 
question  which  I  should  like  to  see  satisfactorily  answered. 

The  fact  that  Dr.  Talmage  is  read  by  such  numbers  of 
people  is  proof  that  the  charm  of  his  discourse  does  not 
reside  wholly  in  the  delivery.  But  then,  that  his  delivery 
must  also  possess  its  merits  is  shown  by  the  fact  that,  like- 
wise, so  many  come  to  hear.  It  is,  in  truth,  my  judgment 
that  the  virtues  of  the  matter  are  pretty  evenly  balanced 
against  the  virtues  of  the  manner  in  Dr.  Talmage. 

The  preacher's  voice  is  not,  as,  for  instance,  with  Mr. 
Spurgeon  is  the  case,  a  rich  and  rare  instrument  of  music, 
sweet  in  tone  and  with  a  wide  sweep  of  compass.  It  is,  on 
the  contrary,  a  somewhat  harsh,  a  singularly  inflexible,  and 
a  prevailingly  monotonous,  organ  of  utterance.  There  is  no 
pathos  in  it.  The  lack  of  this  is  a  great  denial  of  nature  to 
any  orator.  On  the  score  of  voice,  the  odds  is  thus  heavy 
against  Dr.  Talmage.  But  he  compensates  by  force  and  dis- 
tinctness of  speech.  Everybody  in  the  Tabernacle  can  hear 
every  w^ord  he  speaks.  He  is  said  to  have  an  exceptionally 
large  proportion  of  hearers  whose  sense  of  hearing  is  defect- 
ive —  this  class  of  persons  being  drawn  to  his  audience  by 
their  prospect  of  not  losing  the  sermon. 

With  such  report,  however,  as  to  what  is  in  general  the 
fact  about  the  make-up  of  Dr.  Talmage's  audience,  the  aspect 
of  that  particular  evening's  congregation  by  no  means  cor- 
responded. For  the  aspect  was  remarkably  youthful.  Few 
gray  hairs  were  to  be  seen.  I  cast  my  eye  around  thought- 
fully to  calculate  the  average  age  of  the  audience.     I  enlisted 


7^6  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

a  judicious  friend  by  my  side  in  the  same  undertaking.  He 
was  willing  to  make  his  guess  thirty  years.  I,  for  my  part, 
was  not  ready  to  go  over  twenty-five.  The  very  young  were 
very  numerous  in  the  audience.  I  was  profoundly  impressed 
with  the  responsibility  resting  on  the  preacher ;  "  the  fair 
young  planet"  in  such  proportion  sat  there  to  be  molded 
under  his  plastic  hand  ! 

It  is  reassuring  to  feel,  as  one  confidently  may,  that  the 
influence  exerted  is  in  great  part  safe  and  wholesome.  The 
real  gospel  of  Christ  gets  preached  in  the  Brooklyn  Taber- 
nacle. A  powerful  impulse  is  imparted  to  send  those  thou- 
sands of  minds  and  hearts  and  consciences  to  the  one  true 
Lord  and  Savior,  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  the  old,  old  gospel,  ever 
new,  that  is  there  proclaimed,  unmixed  and  untainted  from 
the  current  wisdom  of  the  world.     Thank  God  for  that ! 

It  were,  however,  a  farther  occasion  of  devout  thankful- 
ness to  God,  if  Dr.  Talmage  felt,  more  deeply  than  he  seems 
to  do,  his  responsibility  to  guard  himself  in  what  he  says 
incidentally,  in  his  obiter  dicta,  to  use  a  phrase  of  the  courts. 
His  text  on  this  occasion  was  from  Job  —  "  Like  as  a  shock 
of  corn  cometh  in,  in  his  season."  "  I  was  born  in  the  coun- 
try," said  the  preacher,  "  and  I  never  got  over  it."  He  im- 
ported country  odors  and  savors  into  his  discourse.  He  de- 
scribed the  harvest-field  alive  with  the  bustle  of  the  husking- 
bee.  I  did  not  refrain  from  whispering  to  the  friend  at  my 
side :  "  He  is  committing  over  again  his  old  mistake,  for 
which  he  was  criticised.  He  is  confounding  the  '  corn '  of 
his  text  with  the  Indian  maize  of  this  country."  Almost  as 
if  he  had  overheard  the  remark,  Dr.  Talmage,  leaving  his 
standing-place,  walked  off  spiritedly  to  one  side,  and  said: 
"  A  few  years  ago,  I  spoke  from  the  pulpit  of  Indian  corn  in 
Palestine.  A  fool  in  the  papers  took  me  to  task  for  commit- 
ting a  blunder.  The  fact,  however,  is,  that  in  the  wrappings 
of  a  mummy  some  kernels  of  our  own  Indian  corn  were  once 


THOMAS  DE  WITT  TAIMAGE  37 

found.  These  brought  to  this  country  were  planted,  and 
they  produced  a  crop.  This  settles  the  matter  of  the  possi- 
bihty  that  there  should  have  been  Indian  corn  in  Palestine. 
So  you  see  I  was  right,  and  my  critic  was  wrong !  " 

Such  information  from  Dr.  Talmage  might  astound  the 
masters  in  vegetable  biology,  but,  for  the  moment,  it  probably 
satisfied  the  great  majority  of  his  congregation.  There  can- 
not, however,  fail  to  follow  a  heavy  abatement  from  the 
eventual  influence  of  Dr.  Talmage  on  his  hearers  —  when 
they  find,  as  many  of  them  inevitably  will  find,  that  their  re- 
ligious teacher  was  so  very  rash  and  fallible,  not  to  say  reck- 
less, a  guide  in  matters,  apart  from  the  gospel,  on  which  he 
ventured  gratuitously  to  speak.  (Also  the  word  "  fool  "  was 
not  in  the  tone  proper  to  the  place,  the  office,  the  hour,  the 
theme.  It  smacked  quite  too  much  of  personal  self-regard 
on  the  preacher's  part,  and  of  the  spirit  of  the  world  in 
"  reviling.")  The  American  Cyclopedia  says:  "The  stories 
of  *  mummy  wheat,'  which  is  said  to  have  germinated  after 
remaining  thousands  of  years  in  the  tombs  of  Egypt,  are  now 
discredited;  the  cunning  Arabs  have  even  supplied  credulous 
travelers  ivith  mummied  maize  grains,  and  dahlia  tubers, 
neither  of  which  were  known  before  the  discovery  of  Amer- 
ica." 

The  vitality  of  Dr.  Talmage  is  remarkable.  He  gives  his 
hearers  plenty  of  what  hearers  invariably  like  best  of  all  from 
speakers,  that  is,  "  life."  The  matter  and  the  manner  both 
are  instinct  with  vitality.  Dr.  Talmage  has  grown  a  solid, 
substantial,  stalwart,  physical  man  in  these  latter  years.  He 
apparently  will  not  soon  wear  out.  His  sanguine,  buoyant 
temperament,  too,  is  in  his  favor.  I  wish  h^  could  find  it  in 
him  rather  to  take  correction  than  to  call  one  who  offers 
correction  a  "  fool."  But  the  probability  is  that  we  shall 
have  always  to  take  the  large  amount  of  admirable  that  there 
is  in  this  strong  man,  offset  with  a  permanently  undiminished 


38  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

deduction  of  —  the  not-so-admirable.  Let  us  rejoice  that, 
after  all  necessary  subtraction  is  made,  there  still  redounds 
so  considerable  a  remainder  of  good. 

So  I  ended  the  brief  paper  descriptive  of  that  one  particu- 
lar occasion  on  which  I  heard  Dr.  Talmage  from  his  own 
Tabernacle  pulpit.  I  have  shown  here  what  I  then  wrote, 
not  only  for  the  intrinsic  interest  that  may  be  found  in  if, 
but  also  as  indicative  of  the  spirit,  friendly  if  not  uncritical, 
in  which  I  approached  the  treatment  of  my  subject  in  the 
following  paper. 


THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE 

"  Brougham  is  a  thunderbolt."  So,  thunderbolt-fashion, 
began  a  passage  of  description  which,  a  generation  or  more 
ago,  used  to  meet  the  eye  of  the  student  in  his  "  Porter's 
Rhetorical  Reader."  The  piece  was  a  selection  descriptive 
of  the  style  of  eloquence  displayed  in  Parliament  by  the 
famous  English  orator  thus  startlingly  introduced. 

To  begin  similarly  here,  Talmage  is  a  phenomenon.  A 
phenomenon  of  success  he  certainly  is,  whether  or  not  he 
be  a  phenomenon  of  eloquence.  Nobody  can  wink  out  of 
sight  the  blazing  fact  that  he  is,  and  that  for  years  he  has 
been,  the  most  widely-heard  preacher  on  the  American  con- 
tinent; nay,  with  one  doubtful  exception,  the  most  widely- 
heard  preacher  in  the  world.  He  inherited  Mr.  Beecher, 
while  Mr.  Beecher  was  still  living,  and  while  that  wonder- 
ful "  old  man  eloquent "  still  preached  with  singularly  little 
diminution  of  his  pristine  power.  Dr.  Talmage  did  not  in- 
deed inherit  Mr.  Beecher's  preeminence  in  the  quality,  but 
only  in  the  quantity  —  the  quantity,  however,  augmented  — 
of  audience  commanded.  If  you  had  counted  the  heads  of 
Dr.  Talmage's  hearers  (I  reckon  as  "hearers"  the  readers 
of  Dr.  Talmage's  sermons),  in  comparison  with  those  of 
Mr.  Beecher's,  numbered  at  whatever  point  you  might 
choose  in  the  highest  prosperity  of  the  latter's  career.  Dr. 
Talmage's  majority  would  have  been  immense.  If  you  had 
weighed  the  brains,  comparatively,  of  the  two  audiences,  the 
disparity,  I  judge,  would  have  been  equally  immense  in  favor 
of  Mr.  Beecher. 

It  seems  to  be  by  some  marvelous,  almost  preternatural, 
chord  in  himself,  of  intelligence  and  of  feeling,  with  the 
overwhelming  and  outnumbering  average  majority  of  the 
human  race,  that  Dr.  Talmage  wins  and  keeps  his  hold  on 

39 


40 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


the  popular  mind  and  heart.  He  does  not  estrange  or  repel 
by  difference  or  by  superiority.  That,  Mr.  Beecher  also  did 
not  do.  Mr.  Beecher's  superiority  and  his  difference  fasci- 
nated and  attracted.  But  the  fascinating  and  attracting 
force  in  Dr.  Talmage  is  rather  the  friendly,  free-hearted 
hail  and  invitation  that  he  sends  out  to  everybody,  bidding 
welcome  all  alike  to  feast  with  himself  in  perfect  equality 
and  good  fellowship.  He  has  vitality  enough,  and  com- 
plaisance enough,  supported  by  enough  of  self-complacency, 
to  do  this  without  its  seeming  otherwise  than  natural  and 
practicable.  The  world  accordingly  takes  Dr.  Talmage  at 
his  word,  and  throngs  to  the  banquet  that  he  spreads.  This 
is  not  the  most  delicate,  perhaps,  not  the  most  dainty,  of 
refections ;  but  there  is  at  least  always  enough,  and  to  spare, 
and  a  smiling  welcome  from  the  host  makes  every  guest  feel 
himself  at  home. 

If  you  listen  to  Dr.  Talmage,  as  you  always  do  so  in 
numerous  company,  you  are,  in  one  way  or  another,  invari- 
ably interested.  But  if  you  are  a  homiletic  student,  or  a 
homiletic  professor,  hungry  for  practical  hints  bearing  on 
your  vocation,  you  are  likely  to  supply  your  note-book  with 
memoranda  suggestive  rather  of  things  to  be  shunned  than 
of  things  to  be  emulated.  One  thing  admirable,  however, 
you  at  once  find  to  be  very  clearly  pronounced  in  this  orator. 
Dr.  Talmage  fulfils  the  first  indispensable  condition  of  suc- 
cessful public  discourse  in  making  himself  heard.  Every 
word,  every  syllable,  from  his  lips  comes  to  you  intelligible 
to  the  ear. 

Beyond  this,  what  feature  is  there  of  Dr.  Talmage's  elo- 
cution that  you  would  seek  to  reproduce?  Well,  truth  to 
say,  hardly  one.  For  that  abounding  vitality  which  beats 
its  strong  pulse  throughout  this  speaking,  is  more  an  attri- 
bute of  the  man  than  of  the  orator.  It  is  less  the  oratory 
heard  by  you,  than  it  is  the  robust  physical  health,  the  plen- 
teous physical  energy,  the  free-flowing  vital  force  felt  in  this 
personal  presence,  that  so  touches  you,  and  so  quickens  you, 
with  the  pleasurable  sensation  of  life.    However,  to  be  all- 


THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE  41 

alive,  and  superfluously  alive,  also  to  be  absolutely  audible 
in  your  enunciation,  these  are  two  points  in  which  you  may 
wisely  desire  and  endeavor  to  resemble  Dr.  Talmage. 

But  Dr.  Talmage's  habit  of  facial  distortion  —  is  that 
good?  Facial  gesture  is  good;  for  the  face  may  be  a  vivid 
pantomime  to  accompany,  illumine,  and  enforce  your  speech. 
In  fact,  the  face  should  be  such  —  nay,  such  in  a  measure 
the  face  will  infallibly  be,  if  you  have  learned  art  enough  to 
be  perfectly  natural.  But  facial  gesture  is  not  the  same  as 
facial  distortion.  Facial  distortion  tends  to  fix  the  features, 
or  to  twitch  them,  in  a  certain  habitual  way.  Facial  gesture 
requires,  and  it  encourages,  absolute  mobility  of  feature. 
Mobility,  not  distortion,  not  even  gesture,  should  be  the 
habit  of  the  orator's  face.  The  face  then  can  rest  placid  in 
comparative  repose,  if  the  tenor  of  discourse  make  that 
fittest;  or,  with  equal  case,  can  fluently  play  into  any  ex- 
pression that  best  answers  the  spirit  of  what  is  said. 

Dr.  Talmage's  occasional  tragic  stride  across  his  platform 
—  what  is  to  be  thought  of  that?  Well,  that,  too,  has  fallen 
into  a  habit  with  him.  What  might  have  been  a  gesture,  a 
powerful  occasional  gesture,  has  degenerated  into  a  mere 
meaningless  bodily  exercise.  A  trick  of  oratorio  behavior, 
one  could  not  properly  call  it;  for  a  trick  is  a  piece  of  con- 
scious artifice ;  and  Dr.  Talmage's  start  and  stride  need  not 
be  charged  with  that  character.  The  worst  that  need  be 
said  of  the  action  has  already  been  said,  that  it  has  become  a 
meaningless  habit  —  meaningless,  and,  therefore,  hurtful  to 
oratoric  effect.  Everything  that  the  orator  does  —  posture, 
gesture,  tone  —  should  tell,  and  tell  for  his  purpose.  But 
the  appearance,  in  Dr.  Talmage's  case,  is  often  as  if  the 
speaker  came  to  a  point  in  his  discourse  at  which  he  felt 
that  his  audience,  or  perhaps  that  he  himself,  would  be  the 
better  for  something  to  impart  a  little  effect  of  enlivenment. 
The  instinctive  resort  then  is  to  a  sudden  gesture,  a  some- 
what violent  gesture,  very  likely  a  springing  promenade  the 
length  of  the  platform.  There  is  oftenest  no  discernible 
relation,  other  than  that  which  has  now  been  hinted,  between 


42  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

the  gesture  and  the  particular  thing  said  accompanied  by  the 
gesture.  Such  gesticulation  is  to  be  avoided.  It  would, 
perhaps,  have  been  very  v^ell  to  write  something  into  the 
discourse  that  naturally  required  the  action;  but  to  give  the 
action,  without  the  something  requiring  it  —  that,  at  best, 
is  futile.  But,  as  has  been  said,  it  is  worse  than  futile, 
since  it  prevents  the  action,  when  appropriately  employed, 
from  being  effective.  Besides  this,  all  mere  meaningless 
habits  of  delivery  insensibly  accustom  hearers  not  to  attach 
significance  to  anything  they  see  in  the  speaker,  or  hear 
from  him. 

The  same  remarks  apply,  or,  at  least,  the  principle  of  them 
does,  to  the  sharp  changes  in  rate,  or  key,  or  force,  of  utter- 
ance, observable  in  Dr.  Talmage's  elocution.  These  changes 
are  not  frequent  —  on  the  contrary,  the  tenor  of  utterance 
is  faultily  monotonous ;  but  when  they  do  occur,  they  seem 
to  have  the  same  motive,  and  they  are  characterized  by  the 
same  unrelatedness,  as  have  been  attributed  to  the  corre- 
sponding habits  of  gesticulation.  That  Dr.  Talmage  should 
not  have  the  sweet,  rich,  flexible  voice  of  Spurgeon,  for 
example,  with  that  Eolian  attachment  in  it  for  pathos  — 
this,  of  course,  is  a  denial  to  him  from  nature,  for  which 
he  is  not  responsible.  The  defect  may  be  noted,  but  it  ought 
not  to  be  criticised.  Even  the  voice,  however,  at  length 
learns  to  express,  with  growing  degrees  of  fitness,  the  senti- 
ments and  emotions  most  natural,  most  habitual,  and  pro- 
foundest,  in  its  possessor. 

So  much  for  the  manner.  The  manner  certainly,  in  Dr. 
Talmage's  case,  does  not  make  the  man.  It  is  not  because 
of  his  manner,  it  is  in  spite  of  his  manner,  that  the  man 
succeeds.  The  writer  once  heard  a  sincere  admirer  of  this 
preacher  say  that  he  did  not  like  to  look  at  Dr.  Talmage 
while  listening  to  his  sermon.  "  I  would  rather  read  him," 
the  same  gentleman  added,  "  than  hear  him."  From  Dr. 
Talmage's  manner,  then,  let  us  go  to  his  matter,  and  make 
some  study  of  that. 

The   first   thing  that  strikes  you   here   is   Dr.   Talmage's 


THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE  43 

orthodoxy.  This  preacher  does  not  trim  his  sails  to  catch 
the  breeze  that  blows  from  the  breath  of  the  "  liberal "  in 
religion.  If  there  were  to  be  suspected  any  trimming  at  all  of 
the  sails,  it  would  be  rather  to  catch  favoring  breath  from 
strict,  straightforward,  old-fashioned  Christian  beUevers. 
No  "  advanced  "  religious  views,  of  whatever  sort,  get  the 
smallest  countenance  from  Dr.  Talmage.  He  is  perfectly 
square-toed  and  flat-footed  in  pronouncing  for  the  faith 
exactly  as  it  was  once  delivered  to  the  saints ;  and  that  faith, 
according  to  Dr.  Talmage,  is  well  enough  expressed  in  the 
definitions  of  evangelical  orthodoxy,  uninfluenced  by  the 
speculations  of  "  progressive  "  theologians.  No  doubt  it  is 
this  staunch  fidelity,  on  Dr.  Talmage's  part,  to  the  old  gospel 
that  has  so  won  Mr.  Spurgeon's  heart,  drawing  from  the 
great  English  preacher  those  warm  commendations  of  his 
American  brother  in  the  ministry. 

The  next  thing  that  impresses  you  in  Dr.  Talmage's  ser- 
mons is  their  directly  evangelical  aim.  This  preaching  is 
not  an  end  in  itself,  but  a  means  to  an  end  beyond  itself ;  and 
that  end  is  to  save  the  souls  of  men,  by  persuading  them  to 
simple  trust  in  the  one,  all-sufficient,  atoning  Redeemer. 
The  relation  of  adaptedness  in  the  means  used  to  the  end 
sought,  may  not  always  be  clear;  but  the  end  itself,  at  least, 
is  always  clear.  And  for  a  preacher  to  have  that  end,  and 
to  make  that  end  clear,  is  much.  This  condition  alone,  ful- 
filled in  Dr.  Talmage,  goes  a  long  way  toward  solving  the 
problem  of  his  success. 

Advancing  beyond  these  two  salient,  most  salient,  features 
of  Dr.  Talmage's  sermons,  namely,  their  orthodoxy  and  their 
evangelical  character,  what  do  you  next  find?  What  you 
next  find  depends  much  upon  you,  the  finder.  If  you  are 
one  sort  of  man,  you  will  find  next  —  a  fertile  imagination, 
and  a  vivid.  You  will  say :  "  Dr.  Talmage  describes  so 
beautifully,  calls  up  such  images,  makes  such  life-like  scenes 
pass  in  vision  before  me."  If  you  are  a  dift"erent  kind  of 
man,  harder  to  please,  more  critical,  trained  in  a  nicer  school 
of  taste,  familiar  with  more  classic  models,  you  will  shake 


44 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


your  head  and  say :  "  There  is  no  real  imagination  here,  only 
a  wild,  unbridled  fancy.  I  see  no  picture  presented  any- 
where, nothing  but  splashes  of  bright  color,  laid  on  without 
form,  mingled  without  harmony.  It  is  confusion  worse  con- 
founded." 

These  two  observers,  it  was  said,  find  different  things. 
But  the  different  things  found  are,  after  all,  the  same  thing- 
seen  differently  and  differently  named.  Certain  it  is  that  an 
ostensibly  pictorial  and  scenic  style  is  a  very  marked  pecul- 
iarity of  Dr.  Talmage's  preaching.  Such  imaginative  qual- 
ity is  good,  if  it  be  genuine.  Is  it  genuine,  or  is  it  spurious 
with  Dr.  Talmage? 

Take  a  fair  specimen,  and  apply  a  fair  test.  The  text  of 
the  sermon  is :  "  Thy  word  is  a  lamp."  "  How  will  all  these 
scenes  of  iniquity  in  our  cities  be  overcome?"  the  preacher 
asks.  ("  Scenes"  are  sometimes  "overcoming";  but  hardly 
are  they  things  to  be  "  overcome.")  "  Send  the  Bible  down 
that  filthy  alley,  if  you  would  have  it  cleansed,"  is  part  of 
his  answer.  But  the  Bible  was  a  "  lamp,"  to  spread  light, 
not  a  river  Alpheus,  to  "  cleanse."  "  Send  it  against  those 
decanters,  if  you  would  have  them  smashed."  But  the  Bible 
was  a  "  lamp,"  not  a  missile  —  club,  for  instance,  or  stone. 
"  Send  it  through  all  the  ignorance  of  the  city,  if  you  would 
have  it  illumined  as  by  a  flash  of  heaven's  morning.  The 
Bible  can  do  it,  and  will  do  it."  Such  are  the  next  sentences 
in  order.  Here  the  Bible  is  a  "  lamp,"  as  it  ought  to  have 
been  throughout.  But  even  here  that  propriety  of  concep- 
tion which  true  imagination  instinctively  produces,  is  want- 
ing. For  "  ignorance  "  is  not  a  thing  to  be  "  illumined,"  but, 
like  darkness,  a  thing  to  be  dispelled.  Darkness  does  not 
stay  to  be  "  illumined  "  by  the  morning  sun.  It  disappears 
before  the  morning  sun;  and  that  is  what  should  have  been 
conceived  as  happening  to  "  ignorance,"  under  the  influence 
of  the  Bible  as  a  "  lamp."  But  the  next  succeeding  sen- 
tence caps  the  climax :  "  Gather  all  the  ignorance  and  the 
wickedness  and  the  vice  of  our  cities  in  one  great  pile  — 
Alps  above  Alps,  Pyrenees  above  Pyrenees,  Himalaya  above 


THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE  ^e 

Himalaya  —  and  then  give  one  little  New  Testament  full 
swing  against  the  side  of  that  mountain,  and  down  it  will 
come,  Alps  after  Alps,  Pyrenees  after  Pyrenees,  Himalaya 
after  Himalaya."  The  word  "  swing "  suggests  that  per- 
haps the  preacher  here  conceived  the  "  New  Testament "  as 
wielded  like  a  form  of  the  ancient  battering-ram,  against 
the  supposed  "  pile,"  to  overthrow  it.  But  the  conception 
may  have  been  that  the  "  little  "  volume  was  as  a  smooth 
stone  from  the  brook  flung  from  David's  sling.  One  finds 
it  impossible  to  be  sure.  By  the  way,  are  the  three  different 
classes  of  mountains,  Alps,  Pyrenees,  Himalayas,  to  be  im- 
agined, as  piled  Pyrenees  on  Alps,  and  then  Himalayas  on 
Pyrenees?  If  so,  the  idea  is  not  expressed,  and  if  not  so, 
why  is  the  aggregate  mass  called  "  that  mountain,"  in  the 
singular  number?  Again,  if  so,  the  toppling  down  of  the 
mountain  would  take  place  in  the  reverse  order,  Himalaya 
falling  first  instead  of  last  —  which  also  would  happily  allow 
the  pleasing  figure  of  chiasm  to  be  employed  in  the  con- 
struction of  the  sentence. 

Now  who  would  have  conjectured  that  this  mountainous 
rhetoric  of  the  preacher's  was  suggested  by  the  metaphor  of 
the  text,  "Thy  word  is  a  lamp?"  The  sense  conveyed  is  all 
good  and  sound  and  wholesome.  The  way  in  which  the 
sense  is  conveyed  —  that  is  the  only  distressing  thing  about 
the  matter.  But  we,  perhaps,  concede  too  much  in  conced- 
ing that  the  sense  is  unobjectionable.  For  who  can  be  en- 
tirely sure  what  the  sense  is?  One  would  like  to  see  Dr. 
Talmage  put  in  a  corner,  to  be  kept  there  till  he  should  set 
down  in  strictly  literal  language  exactly  what  he  meant  by 
saying  that  "  one  little  New  Testament "  given  "  full  swing  " 
against  the  accumulated  moral  evil  of  "  our  great  cities " 
would  tumble  it  all  down.  Did  he  mean  that  there  would 
be  no  moral  evil  "  in  our  great  cities,"  if  there  was  but 
perfect  obedience  in  them  to  the  New  Testament  precepts? 
Then  he  might  have  made  both  his  statement  more  sweeping 
and  his  contrast  more  striking.  He  might  have  said  that 
there  could  be  no  moral  evil  left  in  the  universe,  if  "  one 


46  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

little  "  text  only  of  the  New  Testament,  namely,  the  Golden 
Rule,  for  example,  were  everywhere  obeyed. 

The  fact  is,  Dr.  Talniage  does  not  take  care  enough  to 
think  truly  and  to  speak  truly.  This  is  evident  in  particulars 
that  possess  greater  moral  importance  than  do  points  of 
propriety  in  rhetorical  figure.  Naught  to  extenuate,  as  also 
to  exaggerate  naught  —  Dr.  Talmage  is  incredibly  careless 
in  his  statements,  his  incidental  statements,  those  obiter  dicta 
which  he  was  not  bound  to  furnish  at  all,  but  which,  if  he 
did  furnish  them,  he  was  bound  to  make  reasonably  exact. 
Adequately  to  illustrate  this  would  require  a  large  amount 
of  room.  Only  a  few  examples  can  be  admitted  here.  But, 
let  it  be  understood,  the  fault  thus  found  with  Dr.  Talmage 
is  a  fault  whose  name  is  legion;  for  it  cries  out,  almost  as 
with  a  voice,  and,  using  the  plural  of  majesty,  says:  "We 
are  many."  The  references  in  the  present  paper  are  all  to 
Dr.  Talmage's  latest  volume  of  sermons,  that  numbered 
"  fourth."  This  collection  may  be  supposed  best  to  repre- 
sent the  preacher  as  he  now  is.  On  p.  321,  Dr.  Talmage 
says :  "  Charles  Lamb  could  not  endure  Coleridge."  He 
might  nearly  as  well  have  said :  "  Harmodius  could  not  en- 
dure Aristogeiton,"  "  Damon  could  not  endure  Pythias," 
"  David  could  not  endure  Jonathan."  It  was  possible  for 
Dr.  Talmage  very  easily  to  check  his  misleading  memory,  on 
a  point  of  biographical  history  like  that.  If  he  had  but 
glanced  at  Allibone's  "  Dictionary  of  Authors,"  he  would 
have  found  Coleridge  called  Lamb's  "  most  dearly  loved 
friend."  The  "  International  Cyclopedia "  would  have 
spoken  to  him  of  the  "  affectionate  intimacy "  between  the 
two  men;  the  "Encyclopedia  Britannica,"  of  their  "close 
and  tender  life-long  friendship."  "  Waller  warred  against 
Cowley,"  says  Dr.  Talmage.  The  encyclopedias  know 
nothing  of  this  state  of  belligerency  between  the  two  royalist 
poets.  Johnson,  in  his  "  Lives  of  the  Poets,"  is  equally 
silent  on  the  subject.  Dr.  Talmage  says :  "  The  hatred  of 
Plato  and  Xenophen  is  as  immortal  as  theirj^orks."  Such 
mutual  hatred,  until  Dr.  Talmage  divulged  it,  was  an  ex- 


THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE 


A7 


traordinarily  well-kept  secret  between  the  two  haters.  The 
inaccuracies  now  noted  appropriately  cluster  on  a  single 
page  and  in  a  single  paragraph. 

"  You  are  unsatisfied,"  Dr.  Talmage  says,  p.  313,  "  because 
you  do  not  know  who  Junius  was  —  whether  John  Home 
Tooke,  or  Bishop  Butler,  or  Edmund  Burke."  Bishop  Butler 
—  that  is,  the  only  man  in  history  identified  by  that  title  — 
died  in  1752.  It  was  1769  when  the  first  "  letter"  of  Junius 
was  published.  And  Sir  Philip  Francis,  almost  certainly 
the  true  "  Junius,"  not  mentioned  ! 

On  p.  306,  Dr.  Talmage  says: 

"  I  give  you  the  appalling  statistic  [sic]  that  in  the  last  twenty- 
five  years,  laying  aside  last  year  —  the  statistics  of  which  I  have 
not  yet  seen  —  within  the  last  twenty-five  years  the  churches  of 
God  in  this  country  have  averaged  less  than  two  conversions  a 
j'ear  each.  There  has  been  an  average  of  four  or  five  deaths 
in  the  churches.     .     .     .     We  gain  two,  we  lose  four." 

Here  is  an  appearance  of  unwonted  scruple  on  the  preach- 
er's part.  He  excepts  a  year,  and  takes  pains  to  say  that  he 
does  so.  But  what  a  result  proclaimed !  Does  Dr.  Talmage 
really  think  that  the  American  Christian  churches  have  dur- 
ing twenty-five  years  steadily  lost  in  numbers  more  than 
twice  what  they  have  gained?  A  yearly  net  loss  of  two 
members  or  more  to  a  church  would  mean  a  serious  yearly 
percentage  of  loss  —  hardly  less  than  two  per  cent  probably. 
This  continuing  uninterruptedly  twenty-five  years,  would 
reduce  the  numerical  strength  of  the  American  churches  by 
near  one  half.  Does  Dr.  Talmage,  we  ask  again,  really  think 
that  there  are  only  about  half  as  many  Christian  professors 
now  in  this  country  as  there  were  twenty-five  years  ago? 
The  preacher  should  have  thought  this  thing  out  more  con- 
scientiously. There  is  nothing  more  needful  for  the  pulpit 
than  to  cultivate  the  habit  of  truthfulness. 

On  pp.  294,  295,  occurs  this  interrogative  sentence:  "  What 
ruined  the  merchant  princes  of  Tyre,  that  great  city  of  fairs 
and  bazaars  and  palaces;  her  vessels  of  trade,  with  cedar 


48  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

masts  and  embroidered  sails  and  ivory  benches,  driven  by 
fierce  blasts  on  northern  waters,  and  then  dropping  down 
on  glassy  Indian  seas;  bringing  wine  from  Helbon,  and 
chariot-cloths  from  Dedan,  and  gold  and  spices  from  Rah- 
mah,  and  emerald  and  agate  from  Syria;  her  waters  foam- 
ing with  innumerable  keels,"  etc.  A  rich  sentence,  well 
fitted  to  make  a  strong  impression  of  ample  knowledge  and 
pictorial  power  possessed  by  its  author,  but  —  inaccurate. 
Those  "  vessels  of  trade,"  "  innumerable  keels,"  did  not 
"bring  wine  from  Helbon,"  Helbon  (near  Damascus)  being 
situated  far  from  the  seaboard,  and  transportation  between 
Damascus  and  Tyre  being  exclusively  overland.  "  Dedan  " 
is  not  the  name  of  a  place,  but  rather  a  tribal  designation  — 
the  Dedanites  being  caravan  merchants,  not  maritime.  From 
Rahmah,  too,  the  carriage  was  overland  to  Tyre. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  such  a  preacher  as  has 
here  been  described,  will  commit  offences  against  good 
taste,  will  even  sometimes  wound  reverent  feeling.  Dr.  Tal- 
mage,  on  p.  40,  makes  "  corn "  a  symbol  of  the  bread  of 
God.  But  corn  must  be  "  threshed  and  ground  and  baked," 
he  says.  Dr.  Talmage  makes  his  allegory  go  on  all  fours, 
to  the  extent  of  saying,  "  When  Jesus  descended  into  hellj 
and  the  flames  of  the  lost  world  wrapped  him  all  about,  was 
not  the  corn  baked  ?  "  The  revised  version,  with  "  Sheol," 
or  "  Hades,"  for  "  hell,"  should  have  saved  Dr.  Talmage 
from  that  dreadful  rhetoric  —  and  from  that  sad  uninten- 
tional heterodoxy  as  well.  From  many,  however,  of  his 
lapses  in  propriety,  nothing  except  surer  taste  and  finer 
feeling  could  save  Dr.  Talmage. 

It  will  be  fair  to  Dr.  Talmage,  and  it  will  be  variously 
interesting  to  various  classes  of  minds  among  my  readers, 
to  show  now,  without  interruption  of  comment  or  criticism, 
a  somewhat  extended  passage  of  this  celebrated  preacher's 
discourse,  in  which  he  appears  at  his  highest  and  best,  that 
is,  his  most  triumphantly  flamboyant  rhetoric  in  description 
and  exclamation.  I  quote  from  a  sermon  of  his,  said,  in 
the  newspaper  in  which  it  appears,  to  have  been  delivered 


THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE 


49 


at  "  Brooklyn  Tabernacle,"  Sept.  22,  1889.  The  title  is, 
"  From  Ocean  to  Ocean,"  the  text  being  "  He  shall  have 
dominion  from  sea  to  sea": 

"  But  the  most  wonderful  part  of  this  American  continent  is 
the  Yellowstone  Park.  My  visit  there  last  month  made  upon  me 
an  impression  that  will  last  forever.  After  all  poetry  has  ex- 
hausted itself,  and  all  the  Morans  and  Bierstadts  and  the  other 
enchanting  artists  have  completed  their  canvas,  there  will  be 
other  revelations  to  make  and  other  stories  of  its  beauty  and 
wrath,  splendor  and  agony,  to  be  recited.  The  Yellowstone 
Park  is  the  geologist's  paradise.  By  cheapening  of  travel  may 
it  become  the  nation's  playground !  In  some  portions  of  it  there 
seems  to  be  the  anarchy  of  the  elements.  Fire  and  water,  and 
the  vapor  born  of  that  marriage  terrific.  Geyser  cones  or  hills 
of  crystal  that  have  been  over  five  thousand  years  growing.  In 
places  the  earth,  throbbing,  sobbing,  groaning,  quaking  with 
aqueous  paroxysm.  At  the  expiration  of  every  sixty-five  min- 
utes one  of  the  geysers  tossing  its  boiling  water  185  feet  in  the 
air  and  then  descending  into  swinging  rainbows.  Caverns  with 
pictured  walls  large  enough  for  the  sepulchre  of  the  human  race. 
Formations  of  stone  in  shape  and  color  of  calla  lily,  of  helio- 
trope, of  rose,  of  cowslip,  of  sun-flower  and  of  gladiolus.  Sul- 
phur and  arsenic  and  oxide  of  iron,  with  their  delicate  pencils, 
turning  the  hills  into  a  Luxembourg  or  a  Vatican  picture  gallery. 
The  so-called  Thanatopsis  Geyser,  exquisite  as  the  Bryant  poem 
it  was  named  after,  and  the  so-called  Evangeline  Geyser,  lovely 
as  the  Longfellow  heroine  it  commemorates.  The  so-called 
Pulpit  Terrace  from  its  white  elevation  preaching  mightier  ser- 
mons of  God  than  human  lips  ever  uttered.  The  so-called  Be- 
thesda  Geyser,  by  the  warmth  of  which  invalids  have  already 
been  cured,  the  Angel  of  Health  continually  stirring  the  waters. 
Enraged  craters,  with  heat  at  five  hundred  degrees,  only  a  little 
below  the  surface. 

"  Wide  reaches  of  stone  of  intermingled  colors,  blue  as  the 
sky,  green  as  the  foliage,  crimson  as  the  dahlia,  white  as  the 
snow,  spotted  as  the  leopard,  tawny  as  the  lion,  grizzly  as 
the  bear,  in  circles,  in  angles,  in  stars,  in  coronets,  in  stalactites, 
in  stalagmites.  Here  and  there  are  petrified  growths,  or  the 
dead  trees  and  vegetation  of  other  ages,  kept  through  a  process 
D 


50  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

of  natural  embalmment.  In  some  places  waters  as  innocent  and 
smiling  as  a  child  making  a  first  attempt  to  walk  from  its 
mother's  lap,  and  not  far  off  as  foaming  and  frenzied  and  ungov- 
ernable as  a  maniac  in  murderous  struggle  with  his  keepers. 

"  But  after  you  have  wandered  along  the  geyserite  enchant- 
ment for  days  and  begin  to  feel  that  there  can  be  nothing  more 
of  interest  to  see,  you  suddenly  come  upon  the  peroration  of  all 
majesty  and  grandeur,  the  Grand  Canyon.  It  was  here  that  it 
seems  to  me  —  and  I  speak  it  with  reverence  —  Jehovah  seems 
to  have  surpassed  Himself.  It  seems  a  great  gulch  let  down 
into  the  eternities.  Here,  hung  up  and  let  down  and  spread 
abroad,  are  all  the  colors  of  land  and  sea  and  sky.  Upholstering 
of  the  Lord  God  Almighty!  Best  work  of  the  Architect  of 
worlds !  Sculpturing  by  the  Infinite !  Masonry  by  an  omnip- 
otent trowel !  Yellow !  You  never  saw  yellow  unless  you  saw 
it  there.  Red !  You  never  saw  red  unless  you  saw  it  there. 
Violet !  You  never  saw  violet  unless  you  saw  it  there.  Tri- 
umphant banners  of  color.  In  the  cathedral  of  basalt,  Sunrise 
and  Sunset  married  by  the  setting  rainbow  ring. 

"  Gothic  arches,  Corinthian  capitals  and  Egyptian  basilicas 
built  before  human  architecture  was  born.  Huge  fortifications 
of  granite  constructed  before  war  forged  its  first  cannon.  Gi- 
braltars  and  Sebastopols  that  never  can  be  taken.  Alhambras, 
where  kings  of  strength  and  queens  of  beauty  reigned  long  be- 
fore the  first  earthly  crown  was  empearled.  Thrones  upon  which 
no  one  but  the  King  of  Heaven  and  earth  ever  sat.  Font  of 
waters  at  which  the  lesser  hills  are  baptized  while  the  giant 
cliffs  stand  round  as  sponsors.  For  thousands  of  years  be- 
fore that  scene  was  unveiled  to  human  sight,  the  elements 
were  busy,  and  the  geysers  were  hewing  away  with  their 
hot  chisel,  and  glaciers  were  pounding  with  their  cold  ham- 
mers, and  hurricanes  were  cleaving  with  their  lightning 
strokes,  and  hailstones  giving  the  finishing  touches,  and  after 
all  these  forces  of  nature  had  done  their  best,  in  our  century 
the  curtain  dropped  and  the  world  had  a  new  and  divinely 
inspired  revelation,  the  Old  Testament  written  on  papyrus,  the 
New  Testament  written  on  parchment,  and  now  this  last  Testa- 
ment written  on  the  rocks. 

"  Hanging  over  one  of  the  cliffs  I  looked  off  until  I  could 
not  get   my  breath,   then   retreating  to  a  less  exposed  place   I 


THOMAS  DE  WITT  T A  IMAGE 


51 


looked  down  again.  Down  there  is  a  pillar  of  rock  that  in 
certain  conditions  of  the  atmosphere  looks  like  a  pillar  of 
blood.  Yonder  are  fifty  feet  of  emerald  on  a  base  of  five 
hundred  feet  of  opal.  Wall  of  chalk  resting  on  pedestals  of 
beryl.  Turrets  of  light  tumbling  on  floors  of  darkness.  The 
brown  brightening  into  golden.  Snow  of  crystal  melting  into 
fire  of  carbuncle.  Flaming  red  cooling  into  russet.  Cold  blue 
warming  into  saffron.  Dull  gray  kindling  into  solferino.  Morn- 
ing twilight  flushing  midnight  shadows.  Auroras  crouching 
among  rocks. 

"  Yonder  is  an  eagle's  nest  on  a  shaft  of  basalt.  Through  an 
eyeglass  we  see  it  among  the  young  eagles,  but  the  stoutest 
arm  of  our  group  cannot  hurl  a  stone  near  enough  to  disturb 
the  feathered  domesticity.  Yonder  are  heights  that  would  be 
chilled  with  horror  but  for  the  warm  robe  of  forest  foliage  with 
which  they  are  enwrapped.  Altars  of  worship  at  which  nations 
might  kneel.  Domes  of  chalcedony  on  temples  of  porphyry.  See 
all  this  carnage  of  color  up  and  down  the  cliffs ;  it  must  have 
been  the  battlefield  of  the  war  of  the  elements.  Here  are  all 
the  colors  of  the  wall  of  Heaven,  neither  the  sapphire  nor  the 
chrysolite  nor  the  topaz  nor  the  jacinth,  nor  the  amethyst  nor 
the  jasper  nor  the  twelve  gates  of  twelve  pearls,  wanting.  H 
spirits  bound  from  earth  to  Heaven  could  pass  up  by  way  of 
this  canyon,  the  dash  of  heavenly  beauty  would  not  be  so  over- 
powering. It  would  only  be  from  glory  to  glory.  Ascent  through 
such  earthly  scenery  in  which  the  crystal  is  so  bright  and  the 
red  so  flaming  would  be  fit  preparation  for  the  '  sea  of  glass 
mingled  with  fire.' 

"  Standing  there  in  the  Grand  Canyon  of  the  Yellowstone 
Park  on  the  morning  of  August  9,  for  the  most  part  we  held 
our  peace,  but  after  a  while  it  flashed  upon  me  with  such  power 
I  could  not  help  but  say  to  my  comrades :  '  What  a  Hall  this 
would  be  for  the  last  Judgment !  *  See  that  mighty  cascade  with 
the  rainbows  at  the  foot  of  it.  Those  waters  congealed  and 
transfixed  with  the  agitations  of  that  day,  what  a  place  they 
would  make  for  the  shining  feet  of  the  Judge  of  quick  and 
dead.  And  those  rainbows  look  now  like  the  crowns  to  be  cast 
at  His  feet.  At  the  bottom  of  this  great  canyon  is  a  floor  on 
which  the  nations  of  the  earth  might  stand,  and  all  up  and 
down  these  galleries  of  rock  the  nations  of  Heaven  might  sit. 


52 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


And  what  reverberation  of  archangels'  trumpets  there  would  be 
through  all  these  gorges  and  from  all  these  caverns  and  over 
all  these  heights.  Why  should  not  the  greatest  of  all  the  days 
the  world  shall  ever  see,  close  amid  the  grandest  scenery 
Omnipotence  ever  built?" 

The  most  of  the  discourse  is  pitched  in  the  same  key  of 
intense  exclamatory  rhetoric.  Now,  on  the  one  hand,  to 
pronounce  such  strains  of  extravaganza  truly  admirable,  as, 
on  the  other  hand,  to  deny  that  they  display  great  resources 
of  descriptive  "  eloquence  "  on  the  part  of  the  author,  would 
be  to  commit  two  faults  of  critical  estimate  about  equally 
foolish.  But  how  do  long  passages  of  description  like  the 
foregoing  find  their  iit  place  in  a  sermon?  No  problem 
more  easy  for  Dr.  Talmage  to  solve.  A  country  that  con- 
tains such  things  should  be  reclaimed  to  God !  "  Oh,  the 
sweep  of  the  American  continent !  "  exclaims  the  preacher, 
midway  in  his  discourse.  "  America  for  God !  "  he  exclaims 
at  the  very  close. 

I  took  care  to  say,  "Said  ...  to  have  been  deliv- 
ered." For,  although  in  this  particular  case  there  is  no 
reason  to  doubt  the  fact  stated,  Dr.  Talmage's  practice  in 
publishing  his  sermons  is  such  that  it  would  not  be  safe 
always  to  trust  implicitly  the  statement  of  time  and  place 
given  for  their  delivery.  "  The  Sun "  newspaper,  of  New 
York  City,  Feb.  i6,  1890,  in  an  article  devoted  to  Dr.  Tal- 
mage covering  almost  an  entire  page  of  the  sheet,  risked  a 
suit  for  libel  from  him  (which,  so  far  as  I  know,  he  never 
brought)  by  making  the  following  statements: 

"  Before  he  left  America  Talmage  prepared  a  series  of  sermons, 
one  for  each  Sunday  during  his  absence,  which  he  arranged 
should  be  sent  out  to  500  newspapers  from  week  to  week,  and 
should  be  printed  as  having  been  delivered  in  the  most  prominent 
spot  near  which  his  itinerary  indicated  he  should  be  on  the  respect- 
ive Sundays  of  his  journey.  Furthermore,  it  was  arranged  that 
the  papers  should  print  these  sermons  under  date  of  the  various 
places  where  they  were  supposed  to  be  delivered,  and  that  they 


THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE  53 

should  appear  as  cabled  reports.  Here,  then,  is  presented  an 
astonishing  spectacle !  A  minister  of  the  Gospel,  foremost  in 
the  pulpit  of  his  country,  in  the  opinion  of  many,  becomes  a 
party  to  a  fraud  and  an  imposition  upon  the  public !  Here 
is  a  sample  of  the  form  in  which  Talmage's  served-in-advance 
sermons  appeared  in  American  newspapers : 

TALMAGE  IN  LONDON 


THE    BROOKLYN    DIVINE    PREACHES    TO    AN    ENGLISH    AUDIENCE 


ON    HIS   WAY  TO   AMERICA 


A   LESSON    ON    FAITH    DRAWN    FROM    THE    PHILIPPIAN   EARTHQUAKE 


Special  cable  to  the  '  Morning  Journal.' 
"  It  would  be  interesting  to  know,  for  instance,  in  what  church 
in  London  this  sermon  was  preached.     No  mention  is  made  of 
it  in  the  '  faked '  introduction  of  the  despatch." 

It  has  hardly  seemed  worth  while  to  say  that  in  the 
organization  or  plan  of  a  sermon,  Dr.  Talmage  is  almost  en- 
tirely wanting.  As  a  rule,  there  is  no  order,  no  progress, 
no  unity,  no  cumulative  effect.  There  is  a  series  of  more 
or  less  interesting  and  striking  passages,  and  the  sermon 
ends.  It  might  have  ended  before,  or  it  might  now  go  on, 
with  equal  fitness,  so  far  as  concerns  any  accomplishment  of 
a  purpose  in  the  unfolding  of  thought.  The  sermon  is  a 
mere  loose  concatenation  of  paragraphs.  True,  the  para- 
graphs—  often  faulty,  no  doubt  —  are  seldom  without  their 
interest,  their  value,  and  their  life. 

These  pages  will  seem  to  many  to  have  presented  a  dis- 
paraging, and,  perhaps,  to  some,  an  excessively  disparaging 
estimate  of  Dr.  Talmage's  merit.  In  the  aim  of  the  writer, 
the  estimate  has  been  loyally  candid  and  just.  It  was  not 
the  conception  of  the  present  series  of  such  estimates  of 
preachers  that  they  should  be  either  mainly  eulogistic  or 
mainly  destructive.  Equally  remote  from  their  design  was 
the  idea  of  their  being  neutrally  nugatory.    To  be  fair,  to 


54  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

be  effective,  to  be  useful,  is  the  aim  held  steadily  in  view  by 
the  critic. 

Dr.  Talmage  himself  will  not  be  affected  in  his  preaching 
by  what  is  here  set  down  about  him.  His  pulpit  habits,  for 
better  or  for  worse,  are  permanently  fixed.  He  will  go  on 
to  the  end  in  the  gait  which  is  nature,  or  which  has  become 
a  second  nature,  to  him.  The  writer  of  these  words  would 
not  lay  a  straw  of  hindrance  in  his  path,  but  would  rather 
heartily  bid  him  God-speed.  If,  however,  it  should  turn  out 
that  some  preachers  of  the  gospel,  not  as  yet  unalterably 
fixed  in  their  ways,  should,  on  the  one  hand,  be  deterred 
from  following  the  lure  of  false  example  seductively  set 
before  them  in  the  dazzling  success  of  this  popular  preacher ; 
and  should,  on  the  other  hand,  be  incited  to  emulate  him  in 
those  respects  in  which  he  is  truly  deserving  of  emulation, 
then  the  present  critic  will  be  glad,  and  then  the  leading 
purpose  of  his  paper  will  have  been  fulfilled. 


in 

RICHARD  SALTER  STORRS 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

As  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Beecher  and  in  that  of  Dr.  Talmage, 
so  in  the  case  of  Dr.  Storrs,  the  critic  took  occasion  to  hear 
the  preacher  once  more  before  making  him  the  subject  of 
criticism.  In  Dr.  Storrs's  case,  he  enjoyed  besides  the  ad- 
vantage of  a  personal  interview,  sought  by  him  with  the 
express  object  of  informing  himself  more  satisfactorily  from 
the  preacher's  own  lips,  as  to  points  that  might  prove  perti- 
nent to  his  purpose  of  criticism. 

In  this  interview,  I  ventured  to  draw  out  from  Dr.  Storrs 
reminiscences  respecting  the  occasion  of  Mr.  Beecher's  "  Sil- 
ver Wedding,"  so  called,  and  his.  Dr.  Storrs's,  own  part  in  it. 
It  was  gratifying  thus  to  find  that  I  had  made  no  mistake 
in  my  comparative  estimate  of  the  success  of  Dr.  Storrs's 
speech  on  that  occasion;  or  rather  that  Dr.  Storrs's  experi- 
ence of  freedom  and  of  power  then  enjoyed,  corresponded 
with  the  opinion  that,  from  the  evidence  of  the  speech  itself, 
I  had  previously  formed.  The  great  preacher's  face  flushed 
with  the  pleasure  of  reminiscence,  as  he  testified,  "  Yes,  I 
felt  that  I  had  my  audience  from  the  very  word,  '  Go '." 
And  after  using  that  expressive,  if  not  stately,  monosyllable, 
he  proceeded,  with  magnanimous  frankness,  to  taste  over 
again  in  recollection,  and  to  let  me  see  him  doing  so,  the 
joy  of  the  orator's  triumph.  The  speech  which  he  made  on 
the  occasion  referred  to  passed  over  finally  into  a  strain  of 
thought  and  of  feeling  so  profoundly,  so  passionately,  re- 
ligious, that  it  seemed  to  me  quite  suitable  to  give,  as  it  will 
be  found  that  I  have  done,  an  extract  from  the  conclusion  of 
it,  in  illustration  of  Dr.  Storrs's  pulpit  eloquence. 

57 


58  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

This  illustrious  man  continued  for  years  after  the  follow- 
ing criticism  was  published,  to  preach  in  the  Brooklyn  pulpit 
which  he  had  already  then  so  long  adorned.  Also,  in  after 
years,  as  president  of  the  American  Board  of  Commissioners 
for  Foreign  Missions,  he  exhibited  qualities  of  leadership  and 
administration  that  added  a  new  and  different  lustre  to  his 
fame.  Still,  nothing  that,  subsequently  to  the  first  publica- 
tion of  the  criticism  following,  he  either  said  or  did,  would, 
in  the  present  writer's  judgment,  properly  be  admitted  to 
modify  the  sentence  which  the  criticism  pronounces  upon 
him  as  preacher. 

One  particular  occasion  on  which  the  present  writer  had 
the  prized  opportunity  to  hear  Dr.  Storrs  at  his  oratoric 
highest  and  best,  may  here  appropriately  be  recalled.  It 
was  not  an  occasion  of  preaching,  but  it  was  an  ecclesiastic 
occasion,  and  therefore  closely  germane  to  the  tenor  of  this 
criticism.  A  Council  had  been  called,  a  Congregationalist 
Council,  to  meet  what  was  felt  to  be  a  crisis  in  the  history 
of  American  Congregationalism.  It  is  unnecessary  now  to 
say  more  of  this  crisis  than  that  it  involved  Plymouth  Church 
in  Brooklyn,  and  Mr.  Beecher,  its  pastor.  Dr.  Storrs  himself 
had  taken  the  leading  part  in  causing  the  Council  to  be  as- 
sembled, and  upon  him  devolved  the  task  of  impressing  a 
momentum  on  the  comparatively  inert  mass  of  mind  and 
conscience  congregated  in  it  —  a  momentum  favorable  to  the 
cause  which  he  pleaded.  It  was  at  the  same  time  an  aweing 
and  an  inspiring  task.  Whatever  was  august  and  venerable 
in  the  eyes  of  a  loyal  and  traditional  Congregationalist,  was 
nobly  represented  in  that  numerous  and  frequent  presence. 
No  audience  could  have  been  collected  from  the  whole  popula- 
tion of  the  land  that  would  appeal  much  more  powerfully 
than  did  this  to  the  generous  oratoric  ambition  of  a  man 
with  the  personal  and  ancestral  instincts  and  antecedents  of 
Dr.  Storrs.    There  was  apparently  sufficient  sympathy  among 


RICHARD  SALTER  STORRS 


59 


the  delegates  with  his  cause  to  afford  a  needed  sense  of  sup- 
port to  the  orator ;  but  evidently,  too,  there  was  not  sympathy 
sufficient  either  to  render  exertion  on  his  part  unnecessary  or 
to  excite  in  him  a  disqualifying  enthusiasm.  He  seemed  to 
be  just  fortunately  buoyed  and  ballasted,  both  at  once,  by 
the  occasion. 

What  the  Council  needed  was  to  be  launched  on  the  sea 
of  debate  which  it  should  ride.  Dr.  Storrs's  business  was 
to  launch  it.  He  found  it  hanging  in  the  ways.  The  great 
lift  and  shove  that  should  start  it  must  come  from  his  hands. 
I  mean  that  the  Council  appeared  at  the  first  to  pause  in  a 
certain  grave  suspense  of  misgiving,  as  in  the  presence  of 
unknown  issues,  that  it  might  perhaps  have  been  wiser  to 
postpone,  instead  of  provoking.  To  impress  the  controlling 
movement  upon  a  moral  mass  in  this  ambiguous  state  of  in- 
ertia was  a  work  worthy  of  Hercules.  And  Hercules  per- 
formed it.  The  Council  was  set  in  a  good  energy  of  mental 
and  moral  molecular  vibration  that  lasted  throughout  the 
session,  by  that  first  great  speech  of  Dr.  Storrs.  Every  stroke 
of  the  mighty  oratory  added  its  increment  of  intense  and 
fine  agitation. 

Dr.  Storrs  rose,  a  large  figure,  tall,  with  a  scholarlike  stoop 
at  the  shoulders.  The  physical  mass  of  the  man  helped  the 
moral  weight  and  force  of  the  orator.  It  was  rather  im- 
pressive to  see  the  ready  but  not  impatient  speaker,  after 
rising  to  begin,  yield  to  some  slight  occasions  for  delay,  oc- 
curing  several  times  in  succession,  slowly  swinging  himself 
halfway  round  as  he  resumed  his  seat,  with  a  sense,  the 
observer  could  imagine,  of  sufficient  power  in  reserve  to 
bide  tranquilly  his  full-come  hour. 

As  he  proceeded  to  speak,  the  voice  impressed  the  hearer. 
Rich,  sweet,  strong,  sound,  clear,  it  was  a  full  fit  vehicle 
to  bear  any  weight  of  thought  or  passion  the  owner  might 
have  to  impose  upon  it.     Next  the  artistic  —  or,  if  not  artistic, 


6o  MASTERS  OF  PULPIZ  DISCOURSE 

then  the  marvelously  felicitous,  natural  —  articulation  and 
enunciation  commanded  your  attention.  Scarcely  more  than 
one  or  two  final  syllables  escaped  my  hearing  throughout  the 
near  two  hours  and  a  half  of  the  speech,  and  I  occupied  a 
seat  under  the  gallery,  directly  opposite  the  speaker,  to  one 
side  of  him.  A  certain  tone  of  culture  and  finish  in  it  made 
the  mere  pronunciation  an  agreeable  entertainment  to  the 
fastidious  ear.  Beyond  such  mere  mechanical  traits  of  the 
speaking,  you  observed  also  a  musical  rhythm  and  cadence  in 
the  delivery  of  the  long,  somewhat  Choate-like  periods,  which, 
however,  while  always  harmonious,  grew  a  little  wearisome 
perhaps  at  length,  from  the  monotony  of  its  recurring  variety. 
The  elocution,  like  the  rhetoric,  of  the  address  was  too  much 
on  one  level  —  a  high  level  of  stateliness  and  dignity.  Sharp 
contrasts  in  pitch,  in  volume,  in  rate,  in  emphasis,  were  want- 
ing in  the  delivery,  as  they  were  first,  no  doubt,  wanting  in 
the  conception.  The  habit  in  delivery  had  unquestionably, 
however,  reacted  in  turn  upon  the  habit  of  conception,  and 
helped  to  fix  it  in  that  sustained  loftiness  of  mood  which 
seems  not  quite  artistic  enough,  chiefly  in  that  it  impresses 
you  as  being  too  artistic.  But  violent  contrasts  may,  as  well 
as  monotony,  become  a  mere  habit  with  a  speaker.  Mr. 
Beecher  was  probably  as  much  an  example  of  the  one  ten- 
dency as  Dr.  Storrs  was  of  the  other.  And,  while  no  art 
can  be  so  fine  as  great  Nature  in  her  great  moods,  for  my 
own  part,  I  much  prefer  conscientious,  disciplined  art  to  Na- 
ture where  Nature's  magnificent  wantonness  has  been  hu- 
mored into  mere  lazy  and  slovenly  habit. 

Dr.  Storrs's  diction  was  noble  and  affluent.  The  choicest 
words  in  the  vocabulary  of  his  mother  tongue  trooped  will- 
ingly in  muster  to  his  call.  But  the  truth  partly  is  that 
common  words  seemed  selecter  from  his  mouth,  ennobled 
by  the  princely  pronunciation  with  which  he  uttered  them. 
I  distinctly  remember  an  instance.     It  fell  in  the  speaker's 


RICHARD  SALTER  STORRS  6i 

way  to  characterize  Mr.  Beecher's  genius.  In  the  course 
of  a  eulogistic  period  he  followed  a  substantive  with  the  two 
adjectives,  "  splendid,  eminent."  These  were  well-worn 
words;  but  somehow,  in  the  delectable  pronunciation  with 
which  they  issued  to  the  ear,  they  had  a  rare  effect.  They 
stood  out  clear  and  brilliant,  embossed  in  high  relief  upon  the 
vivid  medallion  which  Dr.  Storrs,  to  the  delight  and  admira- 
tion of  his  auditors,  struck  that  moment,  with  a  sudden 
felicity  of  perfect  finish,  in  tribute  to  genius  and  friendship. 
What  wonder  that  words  came  readily  to  his  tongue?  No 
word  but  might  feel  glad  and  proud  to  be  pronounced  in 
such  patrician  fashion. 

Were  rhetoric  and  elocution  wielded  in  absolute  subordina- 
tion to  the  paramount  behoof  of  moral  interests?  Abso- 
lute subordination?  Well,  perhaps  not.  "Absolute"  is 
a  strong  word ;  and  what  perfect  thing  is  there  in  this  world  ? 
But  that  the  moral  element  dominated,  and  was  only  not  abso- 
lute, I  should  say  with  emphasis.  If  it  was  mere  pyrotech- 
nics, and  not  real  lightning,  with  some  thunderbolts,  that  I 
witnessed,  why,  it  would  not  be  worth  my  while  to  describe 
it ;  much  less  would  it  deserve  the  praise  of  being  what  not  I 
alone,  but  many  experienced  judges,  declared  it  —  a  piece 
of  eloquence  which  it  was  an  event  in  one's  life  to  have  heard. 
The  splendid  light  of  imagination  which  was  shed  —  like  sun- 
shine, so  large  it  was  and  so  free  —  over  the  discourse  seemed 
afterward,  when  I  read  the  report  of  it  in  print,  to  have 
been  partly  a  transient  effect  —  transient,  but  not  illusory, 
an  evanescent  sheen,  evolved  between  speaker  and  hearer, 
by   their   mutually   enkindling   personal    presence. 

The  general  criticism  to  be  passed  upon  the  whole  address, 
considered  as  eloquence  in  the  strict  and  high  sense  of  that 
word,  is  probably  this :  It  excited  too  much  admiration. 
It  would  have  convinced  and  persuaded  and  commanded  better 
had  it  disposed  hearers  less  to  praise  it.     There  was  somewhat 


62  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

more  of  art  in  it  than  the  art  succeeded  in  hiding.  The 
speaker's  moral  earnestness  deserved  and  it  received  his 
hearer's  homage.  But  the  homage  rendered  was  not  quite 
supreme  and  absolute.  You  had  a  sense  of  leisure  and  com- 
plaisance left  for  feeling,  w^hether  quite  justly  or  not,  that 
what  you  did  not  yield  to  the  speaker  in  agreeing  with  him 
you  might  make  up,  at  least  to  his  partial  satisfaction,  by 
admiring  him.  And  still,  as  I  said,  the  moral  element 
was  present  in  great  strength.  It  only  did  not  master  the 
fellow  elements   completely. 

I  could  not  help  remembering  an  exchange  of  letters  be- 
tween the  young  Mr.  Storrs  of  thirty  years  or  so  ago  and 
Rufus  Choate,  which  appears  in  the  published  life  of  the  lat- 
ter. Mr.  Storrs  read  law  for  a  time  in  Choate's  office.  After- 
ward, drawn  from  the  law  to  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel,  the 
nobly  aspiring  young  preacher  wrote  to  his  old  master  for 
literary  and  oratorical  advice.  His  subsequent  career  has 
consisted  well  with  the  spirit  then  manifested.  Dr.  Storrs  has 
cultivated  eloquence  in  a  sense  in  which  the  cultivation  of 
eloquence  among  us  in  America  has  almost  become  obsolete. 
Only  as  the  last,  the  "  bright  consummate  flower  "  of  such 
cultivation  could  that  speech  of  his  before  the  Council  have 
been  produced.  A  strictly  extemporaneous  speech,  on  the 
hastening  ear  it  made  an  impression  of  finish  in  form 
like  that  which  his  address  before  the  Evangelical  Alliance 
sustains  to  the  leisurely  eye.  But  the  copious  diction,  the 
elegant  syntax,  the  ripe  mastery  of  topic  and  treatment,  the 
fusile  heat  of  the  oratoric  imagination  —  these  were  supplied, 
as  in  the  masterpieces  of  forensic  or  quasi-forensic  eloquence 
they  always  are,  by  the  congenial  habit  and  pursuit  of  a  life- 
time, and,  besides,  by  the  conversance  of  previous  days  and 
weeks  and  months  with  the  particular  subject  of  the  argu- 
ment. In  oratory,  as  in  everything  else,  art  is  long.  Noth- 
ing perfect  comes  to  us  at  once. 


RICHARD    SALTER  STORRS 

"  The  prince  of  living  pulpit  rhetoricians,"  would  be  a 
true,  but  it  would  be  a  very  inadequate,  and  it  might  prove  a 
very  misleading,  characterization  of  the  subject  of  the  pres- 
ent paper.  Dr.  Storrs  is  easily  that,  but  he  is  alike  more, 
and  other,  and  better,  than  that.  He  rises  upon  occasion 
from  the  rhetorician  to  the  orator ;  and  even  when  he  is  least 
the  orator  and  most  the  rhetorician,  he  is  always  so  sterling 
in  thought,  and  so  lofty  in  moral  or  religious  purpose,  that 
to  think  of  him  as  only,  or  as  chiefly,  a  rhetorician,  would  be 
to  make  a  capital,  a  vital,  mistake  in  critical  appreciation  of 
his  quality.  He  is  a  great  sincere  and  serious  soul,  in  whom 
—  by  a  mere  chance  perhaps  of  early  determining  choice  on 
his  own  part  —  the  genius  of  the  orator  was  destined  to  be 
somewhat  overborne  by  the  culture  of  the  rhetorician.  It 
is  bold  pure  conjecture  to  hazard,  but  I  can  easily  conceive 
how,  if  the  youthful  Storrs,  who  was  a  student-at-Iaw  of 
Rufus  Choate,  had  taken  his  life-long  bent  in  style  of  thought 
and  expression  from  a  Dorian  master  like  Webster,  instead 
of  a  Corinthian  master  like  Choate,  he  might  have  issued 
a  quite  different  speaker  from  that  stately,  that  magnificent, 
pulpit  orator  who  is  our  national  joy  and  pride  in  the  actual 
Dr.  Storrs  of  to-day,  bearing  so  strongly  and  so  lightly  the 
burden  of  his  well-nigh  seventy  useful  and  honorable  years. 

Do  you  say,  "  But  warmth  of  temperament  was  wanting 
to  this  otherwise  prodigally  gifted  nature,  and  that  deficiency 
was  from  the  first  in  itself  enough  to  have  made  him,  and 
hopelessly  to  keep  him,  the  style  of  orator  that  he  is,  capable 
indeed  of  shining  like  the  sun,  but  incapable  of  warming  as 
the  sun  warms?  " 

A  natural  judgment,  but  probably  a  fallacious.  A  mask 
of  oratoric  manner,  early  put  on  and  twenty  years  unceas- 

63 


64  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

ingly  worn  by  a  public  speaker,  acquires  almost  unlimited 
power  to  hide  in  that  speaker  a  fundamental  reality  of  nat- 
ural endowment;  nay,  to  work,  by  reflex  reaction  of  influ- 
ence, or  well-nigh,  for  the  uses  of  public  speaking,  to  work, 
an  utter  extinction,  as  it  were,  of  some  inherent  personal 
trait  in  the  man.  I  have  misinterpreted  a  certain  signal 
public  utterance  of  this  great  orator,  if,  on  one  occasion  at 
least,  breaking  through  the  exterior  crust  of  calm  which 
Dr.  Storrs  before  an  audience  usually  exhibits  to  observers, 
there  did  not  appear  an  escape  of  noble  elemental  passion  in 
speech,  betokening  within  the  central  core  of  his  being  the 
presence  of  power,  originally  his,  to  have  become  a  shaker 
of  assemblies  like  Demosthenes  himself,  or,  to  use  a  fitter 
comparison,  like  Chrysostom  preaching  in  the  basilicas  of 
Antioch  and  Constantinople. 

Such,  however,  is  not  in  fact  the  character  in  which  Dr. 
Storrs  is  familiar  to  the  public,  and  in  which  he  will  be 
known  in  the  history  of  later  pulpit  eloquence.  We  properly 
deal  here  with  what  he  is,  rather  than  with  what  he  might 
have  been;  and  still  what  he  might  have  been  is,  in  its  meas- 
ure, necessary  to  be  considered,  in  order  to  estimating  accu- 
rately and  adequately  what  he  is. 

Dr.  Storrs,  if  you  count  by  generations,  stands  fourth  in 
a  long  and  splendid  line  of  hereditary  ministerial  succession. 
His  father,  his  grandfather,  his  great-grandfather,  were  an- 
cestors to  him  in  office  as  well  as  in  blood.  Something  of 
an  hereditary  cast  of  character,  ennobled  perhaps  with  each 
successive  transmission,  has,  so  it  is  easy  to  imagine,  de- 
scended along  the  whole  line  from  sire  to  son.  It  does  not 
seem  to  be  the  separate  single  individual  alone  who  looks 
upon  you  from  Dr.  Storrs's  pulpit  with  that  commanding 
mien,  and  who  speaks  to  you  thence  in  those  commanding 
tones.  Your  imagination  beholds  also  the  invisible  faces, 
your  imagination  hearkens  also  to  the  inaudible  voices,  of  an 
illustrious  dead  ancestry  standing  with  solemn  and  impres- 
sive port  behind  the  living  speaker.  You  somehow  feel 
besides  that  the  speaker  himself  is  not  unconscious  of  such 


RICHARD  SALTER  STORRS  65 

influence,  sympathetic  and  collaborant  with  him,  derived 
from  his  own  ancestral  past. 

It  is  very  easy,  very  dehghtful,  and,  in  the  present  case, 
to  the  present  writer,  almost  irresistibly  instinctive,  to  dwell 
thus  in  imagining  and  admiring.  I  must  not,  however, 
be  beguiled  to  forget  that  my  business  now  is  neither  to 
imagine  nor  to  admire,  but  to  criticise.  Happily,  to  criti- 
cise is  to  judge,  and  not  merely  to  find  fault.  To  praise, 
certainly  not  less  than  to  blame,  is  the  critic's  true  office. 
Blaming  where  blameworthiness  is  found,  praising  where 
praiseworthiness,  and  balancing  the  two  against  each  other 
in  the  nice  equipoise  of  justice  and  truth, —  that,  in  short, 
is  the  genuine  critic's  oft-misapprehended  duty  and  delight. 
But  I  have  not  completely  stated  the  business  of  criticism 
until  I  have  gone  farther  and  said  that  there  is  to  be 
adjoined  the  still  more  delicate  and  difficult  task  of  merely 
distinguishing,  and  designating  with  accuracy,  qualities  and 
quantities  —  through  all  the  varying  shades  and  degrees  in 
which  they  may  exist  in  a  subject  criticised  —  without  im- 
pertinently bestowing  either  praise  or  blame  for  individual 
differences,  in  a  particular  case  properly  demanding  neither 
the  one  nor  the  other.  Let  us  now  —  I  venture  to  associate 
my  readers  —  in  the  case  before  us,  at  once  address  our- 
selves to  our  task  thus  defined. 

Whether  one  listen  with  one's  ears  to  the  living  speaker, 
or  listen  with  one's  eyes  to  the  speaker's  words  in  print, 
in  either  case  equally,  I  think,  the  first  and  strongest  im- 
pression taken  of  Dr.  Storrs  is  a  moral  impression,  the 
impression  of  high  personal  character  in  the  man.  This 
perhaps  has  already  been  implied;  but  it  needs  thus  to  be 
said  expressly,  and  said  with  the  emphasis  of  reiteration. 
And  to  say  it  does  not  travel  a  step  outside  the  strict  and 
proper  purview  of  the  critic  of  eloquence.  For,  since 
Aristotle,  it  has  been  a  commonplace  of  rhetorical  teaching 
that  to  be  a  good  orator  you  must,  most  important  of  all, 
be  a  good  man.  This  condition  in  Dr.  Storrs's  case  his 
hearer   feels   to  be   completely   fulfilled. 

E 


66  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

We  have  here  to  distinguish  a  little.  A  certain  great 
preacher,  and  one  who  is  at  the  same  time  a  great  teacher 
of  preaching  —  a  man  of  whom  a  criticism  is  attempted 
in  this  volume,  Dr.  Broadus  —  lays  it  down  as  a  prime  maxim 
for  the  pulpit.  Secure  the  sympathy  of  your  audience.  By 
sympathy.  Dr.  Broadus  of  course  does  not  mean  compas- 
sionate regard.  On  the  other  hand,  however,  it  is  something 
more  than  good  will  that  he  means.  He  means  good  will 
touched  and  vivified  with  lively  emotion.  Dr.  Broadus,  by 
the  way,  as  orator,  exemplifies  his  own  maxim,  by  himself 
exciting  this  sentiment  to  a  remarkable  degree  in  his 
audience. 

It  is  not  exactly  such  an  effect  as  this  of  conciliation  and 
ingratiation  that  Dr.  Storrs  produces,  by  the  impression 
which  he  makes  of  personal  character  on  the  sense  of  one 
hearing  him  or  reading  him.  He  does  not  enlist  your  sym- 
pathy, so  much  as  he  compels  your  respect.  You  are 
commanded   rather   than  won. 

Evidently,  for  the  purposes  of  the  popular  orator,  it  would 
be  an  advantage  to  Dr.  Storrs  to  be  persuasive  as  much  as 
convincing.  But  it  is,  on  the  other  hand,  to  be  remembered 
that  the  Christian  preacher  is  not  simply  a  popular  orator 
speaking  from  the  pulpit.  The  Christian  preacher  is  like- 
wise a  pastor,  a  citizen,  and  a  man.  Besides  this  also,  for 
the  case  of  a  minister  like  Dr.  Storrs,  it  must  be  considered 
that  in  any  very  large  city,  the  preacher,  out  of  a  population 
there  sufficiently  numerous  to  allow  it,  comes  in  the  end  to 
select  his  own  audience.  This  process  of  selection  on  the 
part  of  preacher  and  preacher  was  always  of  course  active 
in  Brooklyn.  Emotional  people  Mr.  Beecher  naturally  drew 
to  himself  far  more  than  could  be  the  case  with  Dr.  Storrs. 
Mr.  Beecher  engaged  their  sympathy  more.  Dr.  Storrs, 
however,  has  never  lacked  a  following  less  impressionable, 
indeed,  yet  in  their  way  not  less  responsive  to  his  own 
peculiar  personal  influence  than  were  Mr.  Beecher's  ad- 
herents to  his.  There  always  are  persons  who  do  not  desire 
to  have   their  emotional  susceptibilities  played  upon,   who 


RICHARD  SALTER  STORRS  67 

like  better  to  be  addressed  in  their  reason  than  in  their 
passion.  Such  persons  are  naturally  elected  to  be  of  the 
congregation  of  a  preacher  and  pastor  like  Dr.  Storrs.  A 
congregation  so  composed  may  make  up  in  solidity,  stability, 
weight,  what  it  lacks  in  impulse,  mobility,  verve.  Dr. 
Storrs's  work  has  been  other,  but  perhaps  it  has  not  been 
less,  than  it  would  have  been  had  he  possessed  the  broadly 
and  obviously  sympathetic  qualities  which  in  fact  he  lacks. 
He  would  in  that  case  have  attracted  a  different  congregation, 
larger  perhaps,  but  one  which  in  counting  more  might  have 
weighed  less.  At  any  rate,  the  personal  character  which 
you  feel  as  a  force  in  Dr.  Storrs  the  orator  works  for  him 
with  you  rather  by  commanding  your  confidence  than  by 
enlisting  your  sympathy. 

Apart  from  such  direct  effect  of  personal  character  felt 
by  his  hearers,  and  additional  to  it,  there  is  to  be  reckoned 
also  a  sense  awakened  on  the  hearers'  part  that  the  speaker 
himself  has  a  constant  conscientious  feeling  of  his  own 
personal  character  and  of  what  is  due  to  it  from  himself 
at  least  if  not  from  them.  The  trait  I  now  mean  is  far 
enough  from  vanity  and  it  is  equally  removed  from  pride. 
It  is  sober,  mindful,  serious  sense  of  personality  and  worth; 
in  one  word,  it  is  true  dignity.  "  This  man  " —  such  is  your 
instinctive,  though  it  may  be  unformulated  impression  — 
"  this  man  will  reason  with  me,  will  teach  me,  will  warn 
me,  will  remonstrate,  will  invite,  will  threaten ;  but  one  thing 
there  is  he  never  will  do,  he  will  never  play  me  a  trick, 
never  cheat,  never  cajole.  If  he  were  not  otherwise  above 
such  conduct,  he  has  too  much  lofty  dignity  for  it,  he  respects 
himself  too  much."  Dr.  Storrs  could  never  have  been  a 
demagog,  he  could  never  have  been  an  actor,  he  could 
never  have  been  the  pliant  favorite  orator  of  the  populace. 
He  will  not  condescend  enough. 

This  conscious  dignity  of  which  I  speak  would  be  in  Dr. 
Storrs's  way,  if  he  were  to  resolve  on  mixing  histrionism 
with  oratory,  and  on  seeking  to  succeed  in  the  pulpit,  as  the 
play-actor  succeeds  on  the  stage,  by  pleasing  his  audience 


68  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

with  various  mimicry,  instead  of  purifying  them  with  reason 
and  with  terror.  But  of  course  this  conscious  dignity  in  him 
would  also  prevent  his  ever  forming  such  a  resolution.  In 
short,  Dr.  Storrs  is,  by  a  certain  moral  superiority  in  him, 
incapable  of  being  an  orator  to  wheedle  popular  moods,  and 
to  seem  to  rule,  by  really  indulging,  his  hearers.  He  recalls 
the  noble  words  spoken  by  that  frugal  encomiast,  Thucy- 
dides,  of  the  great  Athenian  Pericles. 

"He  [Pericles],  deriving  authority  from  his  capacity  and  ac- 
knowledged worth,  being  also  a  man  of  transparent  integrity, 
was  able  to  control  the  multitude  in  a  free  spirit ;  he  led  them 
rather  than  was  led  by  them ;  for,  not  seeking  power  by  dishonest 
arts,  he  had  no  need  to  say  pleasant  things,  but  on  the  strength 
of  his  own  high  character  could  venture  to  oppose  and  even 
to  anger  them.  When  he  saw  them  unseasonably  elated  and  ar- 
rogant, his  words  humbled  and  awed  them.  .  .  .  Thus 
Athens,  though  still  in  name  a  democracy,  was  in  fact  ruled  by 
her  greatest  citizen." 

It  is  in  an  attitude  of  moral  superiority  somewhat  such  as 
is  thus  attributed  by  Thucydides  to  Pericles,  that  Dr.  Storrs 
presents  himself  to  his  audience.  His  is  emphatically  an 
eloquence  of  character   and  of  dignity. 

In  considering  what  characteristic  of  Dr.  Storrs's  oratory 
next  to  name  as  next  in  order  of  importance,  I  pause  in 
almost  hopeless  balance  between  two  quite  different,  and 
even  as  it  were  contradictory,  things,  the  one  moral,  and  the 
other  mental,  the  one  an  original  endowment,  and  the  other 
an  adventitious  acquisition;  in  a  word,  I  hardly  know 
whether  to  say  moral  earnestness  or  elegant  culture.  The 
impression  of  moral  earnestness  must  be  very  strongly  made 
on  you  by  Dr.  Storrs  to  assert  itself  at  all,  much  more  to 
assert  itself  in  doubtful  rivalry,  against  an  elegant  culture 
in  him  impressing  you  with  such  unparalleled  power.  For 
Dr.  Storrs  seems  to  me  to  be  in  this  respect  without  peer 
anywhere  in  the  world  among  the  preachers  of  his  time. 
By  elegant  culture  I  mean  not  exact  scholarship,  not  multi- 


RICHARD  SALTER  STORRS  69 

farious  learning,  not  wide  information,  but  a  certain  grace 
and  finish  of  mind,  the  "  bright  consummate  flower "  of 
arduous  self-discipHne  conducted  by  one  possessing  before- 
hand that  inborn  fitness  for  it  which  is  the  incommunicable 
gift  of  taste  or  of  genius. 

The  circumstance  that  elegant  culture  strikes  one  so 
strongly  as  a  trait  in  the  oratory  of  Dr.  Storrs,  may  be  largely 
due  to  the  fact  that  he  makes  his  general  public  impression 
through  occasional  sermons  and  addresses  rather  than  by 
the  ordinary  average  strain  of  his  preaching  of  the  gospel. 
He  has  never  published  a  volume  of  parochial  sermons; 
while  as  orator  for  occasions  of  an  elevated  character  he 
is  perhaps  as  near  as  any  living  American  to  being  now  the 
elect  favorite  voice  of  the  nation.  It  is  natural  and  proper 
that  in  occasional  eloquence  —  epideictic  the  Greeks  who 
originated  it  called  this  kind  of  public  speaking  —  there 
should  be  used  a  style  more  studied  and  ornate  than  would 
be  fit  in  ordinary  pulpit  discourse.  But  under  all  the  orna- 
ment with  which  Dr.  Storrs  loves,  on  a  select  signal  occasion, 
to  decorate  his  speech,  there  never  fails  to  beat  a  heart  of 
genuine  moral  earnestness.  I  cannot  doubt  that  in  his 
habitual  pastoral  preaching,  moral  earnestness  exercises  its 
unquestioned  right  to  be  unmistakable  lord  paramount  of 
his  discourse. 

The  truly  magnificent  oration  delivered  by  Dr.  Storrs  in 
1880  before  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  Society  in  Harvard  Uni- 
versity is  perhaps  the  single  specimen  among  such  utterances 
of  this  orator,  best  deserving  to  be  styled  his  masterpiece 
in  epideictic  eloquence.  Here  the  epideictic  character  almost 
disappears,  consumed  in  the  noble  intensity  of  moral  earnest- 
ness that  burns  throughoiat  the  discourse.  But  no  stress  of 
moral  earnestness,  kindled  to  whatever  sevenfold  heat,  could 
prevail  to  consume  the  decoration,  proof  as  of  diamond, 
which  Dr.  Storrs's  taste  and  culture  have  united  with  his 
labor  of  art  to  lavish  upon  this  production. 

Take  the  following  sentence.  The  orator  is  drawing 
argument  for  the  supernatural,  as  a  force  in  letters  and  in 


70  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

life,  from  the  introduction  by  Homer  into  his  poems  of  inter- 
ferences from  the  gods  in  human  affairs.  Dr.  Storrs  says  — 
how  full  of  the  scholar's  enthusiastic  reminiscence,  how  full 
of  the  rhetorician's  power  with  words,  is  his  language! — : 

"  The  wine-colored  waters  breaking  around  the  high-beaked 
ships,  the  camp-fires  glittering  on  the  plain,  the  splendor  of 
armor  shining  in  the  air  as  with  the  flash  of  mountain-fires,  the 
troubled  dust  rising  in  mist  before  the  tramp  of  rapid  feet, 
greaves  with  their  silver  clasps,  helmets  crested  with  horse-hair 
plumes,  the  marvelous  shield,  with  triple  border,  blazoned  with 
manifold  intricate  device,  and  circled  by  the  ocean  stream,  the 
changeful  and  impetuous  fight,  the  anguish  and  rage,  and  the  il- 
lustrious funeral-pile  —  not  by  these,  though  moving  before  us 
in  epic  verse,  and  touched  with  iridescent  lights  by  the  magic  of 
genius,  is  the  mind  held  captive  to  the  Iliad,  as  by  its  shadowy 
morning-time  spirit  of  '  surmise  and  aspiration ' ;  by  the  tender 
and  daring  divine  illusions,  which  see  the  air  quick  with  veiled 
Powers,  and  the  responding  earth  the  haunted  field  of  their 
Olympian  struggle  and  debate" 

How  a  sentence  like  that  seems  to  illumine  its  page  as 
with  shifting  sheen  of  color  and  of  light !  The  very  senses 
are,  through  the  imagination,  delighted  with  it  —  to  such 
a  degree  delighted  that  the  mind  almost  forgets  to  consider 
whether  the  orator's  main  thought  here  is  strong  enough 
to  bear  the  weight  of  decoration  with  which  the  rhetorician's 
art  and  the  scholar's  wealth  of  Homeric  recollection  together 
have  freighted  it.  The  merely  natural  charm  of  Homer 
has  first  been,  at  such  length,  so  richly  and  so  sympathetically 
described,  that  the  supernatural  charm  afterward  more 
briefly  attributed  is  hardly  felt  to  be  greater  —  as,  however, 
for  the  orator's  purpose,  it  had  need  to  be.  The  rhetoric 
well-nigh  gets  the  better  of  the  oratory. 

The  chaste  brilliance  of  the  passage  just  shown  does  not 
over-represent  the  pure  rhetorical  splendor  of  the  discourse 
as  a  whole.  The  eyes  fairly  ache  with  enjoying  and  admir- 
ing. And  Dr.  Storrs's  style  of  delivery  well  corresponds — > 
lofty,  grave,  continuously  majestic.    The  speaking  takes  up 


RICHARD  SALTER  STORRS 


71 


the  effect  of  the  writing  and  carries  it  to  its  height.  There 
could  scarcely  be  a  better  rhetorical  example  than  that  sup- 
plied in  the  foregoing  passage,  to  set  off  by  contrast  the 
meretricious  quality  of  style  exhibited  in  the  extract,  of 
preceding  pages,  from  Dr.  Talmage's  discourse  descriptive  of 
the  Grand  Canon  in  Yellowstone  Park. 

If  we  resolutely  release  ourselves  from  the  fascination  laid 
upon  us  by  the  oratory,  to  study  at  leisure  the  secret  of  its 
method,  the  first  thing  perhaps  to  strike  us  is  the  diction  of 
the  discourse.  This  is  choice,  copious,  varied,  but  it  is 
especially  rich  in  adjectives,  and  adjectives  of  a  certain  class 
—  a  class  attributing  loftiness,  largeness,  splendor,  opulence. 
The  frequency  and  recurrence  of  such  adjectives  is  remark- 
able. The  sense  is  sated  with  them.  Save  that  they  are  so 
select  and  so  apt,  and  so  picturesque,  in  Dr.  Storrs's  use, 
there  would  at  length  be  felt  something  like  the  fullness  of 
satiety.  And  the  English  language  is  not  rich  enough  to 
supply  so  many  of  this  class  of  adjectives  as  not  to  leave 
the  orator  obliged  to  repeat  noticeably  certain  favorite  ones, 
among  them,  "  imperial,"  "  supreme,"  "  majestic,"  "  super- 
nal," "  radiant,"  "  transcendent,"  "  superlative,"  "  sovereign," 
"  august,"  "  stately,"  "  lucid,"  "  luminous,"  "  iridescent  " — 
these  adjectives,  and  adjectives  like  these,  stud  Dr.  Storrs's 
ample  pages  as  stars  and  constellations  and  galaxies  stud 
the  firmament  of  heaven.  A  trace  of  the  authentic  effect  of 
the  magnificent  discourse  itself,  seems  produced  by  a  mere 
miscellaneous  assemblage  like  the  foregoing,  as  in  a  pro- 
cession, of  its  buskined  and  togated  adjectives. 

And  apart  from  the  adjectives,  the  diction  in  general  par- 
takes with  these  of  the  character  which  I  have  now  sought 
to  describe.  The  substantives  are  worthy  of  the  adjectives 
that  attend  them,  while  the  verbs  set  the  substantives  in 
action  always  in  a  manner  comportable  with  the  dignity 
which  they  must  not  disparage.  The  keeping  is  perfect. 
The  state  and  equipage  are  throughout  unimpeachably 
maintained. 

And  yet  to  what  general  statement  is  there  no  exception 


72 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


that  candor  must  note?  Occasionally  a  discord  jars  the 
majestic  harmony  of  Dr.  Storrs's  diction.  Here  is  an  ex- 
ample, not  a  very  striking  one,  but  apposite,  for  it  occurs 
even  in  that  same  academic  discourse  which  I  reckon  the 
glory  and  crown  of  Dr.  Storrs's  occasional  eloquence: 

"  No  mechanical  philosophy  has  had  secular  supremacy ;  and 
that  form  of  speculation  which  reduces  the  personal  spirit  in 
man  to  physical  terms,  making  thought  itself,  volition,  passion, 
the  result  of  simple  molecular  action,  and  binding  the  race  in  a 
sterner  fatalism  than  any  theologian  ever  imagined  —  it  has 
spurted  into  sight  in  different  communities,  but  it  nowhere  has 
reached  abiding  power." 

The  plebeian  sound  and  the  ignoble  association  of  the 
word  "spurted"  do,  one  admits,  go  far  toward  justifying 
its  introduction  here,  as  an  expedient  of  righteously  degrad- 
ing that  materialistic  spirit  which  it  is  the  orator's  present 
business  to  condemn.  In  truth  I  do  not  blame,  I  only  note, 
this  trait  of  diction.  Perhaps  indeed  I  ought  to  praise  it; 
but  at  any  rate  it  is  a  jar  in  the  harmony  of  the  elevated 
language  in  which  it  occurs.  It  serves  thus  by  contrast 
to  make  one  more  keenly  aware  how  sustained  and  even 
a  high  tenor  of  choice  in  words  has  prevailed.  The  adjec- 
tive "  secular,"  in  the  sentence  quoted  above,  is  of  course 
employed  in  its  classic  sense  of  "  age-long." ,  It  is  a 
Latinism  not  uncharacteristic  of  the  taste  and  habit  of  the 
orator. 

Another  thing  noticeable,  still  in  the  line  of  diction,  is 
Dr.  Storrs's  manneristic  pluralizing  of  certain  substantives 
generally  used  only  in  the  singular.  "  Freedoms,"  "  knowl- 
edges," "  welfares,"  "  enthusiasms,"  "  generosities,"  "  defi- 
ances," "  wealths,"  are  examples.  This  peculiarity  sometimes 
has  a  genuine  effect  of  heightening  the  value  of  meaning 
expressed,  and  where  such  effect  is  illusory  the  illusion  is 
yet  not  without  its  charm  to  the  imagination. 

Dr.  Storrs  still  further  enriches  and  individualizes  his 
diction  by  bringing  into  use  upon  occasion  a  word  (or  a  form 


RICHARD  SALTER  STORRS 


73 


of  word,  as   "heroical"),  that  his   reader   will  seldom  or 
never  have  met  in  any  other  writer.     For  instance: 

"  It  is  not  only  that  in  ecstasy  or  in  agony  it  [the  human 
spirit]  transcends  situations,  finds  no  complete  image  of  its 
intense  life  in  anything  physical,  and  in  its  bright  or  awful  soli- 
tude is  conscious  only  of  timeless  relations,  and  of  being  afdned 
to  imperial  spirits." 

My  readers  must  instinctively  have  noted  the  lofty  monot- 
ony, of  diction  not  only,  but  of  phrase  and  structure  of  period, 
that  recurs  in  every  quotation  here  introduced.  Such  is  the 
stately  Virgilian  character  of  rhetoric  everywhere  prevailing 
in  Dr.  Storrs's  elaborate  discourse.  There  never  pauses  the 
processional  pomp  of  numerous  rhythmic  prose.  Or,  to  use 
now  a  different  figure,  it  is  like  one  prolonged  orchestral 
harmony  sustained  throughout  by  imperial  organ  tones. 

I  have  thus  far  sought  to  characterize,  rather  than  to 
imply  judgment  for  or  against.  If  now  it  were  made  my 
duty  to  judge,  I  think  I  should  be  obliged  to  say  that  in 
my  own  opinion  Dr.  Storrs  commits  the  rhetorical  fault  of 
splendid  excess.  He  always  has  a  meaning;  but  he  some- 
times makes  his  meaning  dark  with  splendor.  His  words 
dazzle  us  till  we  fail  to  see  the  thought  itself  which  they 
over-illumine.  This  is  at  times  true  both  of  the  particular 
sentence  and  of  the  whole  discourse.  Even  his  topic  Dr. 
Storrs  does  not  always  state  in  a  manner  sufficiently  direct 
and  unadorned  to  fulfil  Quintilian's  requirement  that  you 
should  say  things  not  only  so  clearly  that  men  can  under- 
stand them,  but  so  clearly  that  men  cannot  help  understand- 
ing them.  For  example,  in  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  oration 
already  quoted  from,  the  speaker,  having  used  nine  brilliant 
pages  to  introduce  his  topic,  glides  then  so  imperceptibly 
into  his  statement  of  his  topic,  that  you,  supposed  a  hearer, 
are  hardly  aware  how  important  a  thing  is  in  progress  until 
all  is  over;  then  you  strive,  perhaps  not  with  entire  success, 
to  recall  exactly  what  has  been  said.  The  manner  in  which 
the  statement  of  topic  referred  to  appears  on  the  printed 


74  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

page  may  fairly  be  taken  to  represent  the  effect  that  would 
be  produced  by  that  statement  as  heard  by  an  audience.  The 
statement  stands,  typographically  undistinguished,  in  the 
midst  of  a  paragraph,  as  follows : 

"  I  would  offer,  with  your  permission,  a  brief  plea  for  the 
fresh  and  controlling  recognition  among  us  of  what  is  essen- 
tially Supernatural:  which  can  not  be  the  object  of  present  dem- 
onstration, yet  whose  reality  is  suggested  by  many  facts,  and 
the  glory  of  which  man  may  in  a  measure  prophetically  feel, 
though  only  its  vague  outlines  can  he  see." 

The  foregoing  is,  as  I  think,  an  oratorically  ineffective 
statement  of  topic.  It  is  not  simple,  not  straightforward, 
not  brief  and  unencumbered  enough.  And,  besides  this,  it 
is  too  unannounced  and  informal.  It  produces  the  effect  of 
being  itself  a  part  of  the  discourse  rather  than  of  announcing 
the  subject  of  the  discourse. 

A  like  oratorical  error  seems  to  me  to  be  committed  in 
the  orator's  not  setting  forth  the  order  of  treatment  which 
he  intends  to  pursue.  All  is  left  vague  and  undefined. 
The  discourse  moves,  it  moves  strongly,  majestically,  mag- 
nificently, but  it  moves  along  no  highway  perceived,  and 
toward  no  goal  foreshown.  There  is  movement,  in  short, 
without  progress,  or  at  least  without  progress  that  the 
hearer  or  reader  is  able  distinctly  to  feel  and  enjoy.  It  is 
more  like  the  movement  of  an  army  on  parade  than  it  is 
like  the  movement  of  an  army  on  the  march,  much  more 
than  like  the  movement  of  an  army  rushing  to  battle. 

There  is  one  printed  discourse  of  Dr.  Storrs's  which  pre^ 
sents  a  noteworthy  exception  to  his  habitual  excessive 
neglect  of  analysis,  neglect,  I  mean,  of  obvious,  of  confessed 
and  formal,  analysis.  This  is  the  discourse  delivered  by 
him  in  1873  before  the  Evangelical  Alliance  on  "  The  Appeal 
of  Romanism  to  Educated  Protestants."  In  that  discourse 
Dr.  Storrs  is  exemplarily  clear  both  in  stating  his  subject 
and  object,  and  afterward  in  marking  the  successive  stages 
accomplished  of  progress  toward  his  goal.    The  method  of 


RICHARD  SALTER  STORRS 


75 


the  orator  is  there,  in  nearly  every  respect,  completely 
satisfactory. 

I  think  it  not  unlikely,  however,  that  the  distinguished 
orator  himself,  if  consulted,  might  say,  "  The  discourse  you 
thus  praise  is  in  my  own  view  less  an  oration  than  an  essay. 
It  was  a  paper  read  rather  than  an  address  delivered. 
The  analysis  you  like  was  fit  to  its  character  as  an  essay, 
but  it  would  not  have  been  fit  to  its  character  if  it  had 
been  a  proper  oration."  In  other  words,  I  must  not  doubt 
that  so  experienced  and  considerate  an  orator  as  Dr.  Storrs 
proceeds  in  this  matter  according  to  a  method  which  his 
own  mature  and  deliberate  judgment  recommends.  He  con- 
ceals, as  in  general  he  does  conceal,  his  plan  of  discourse, 
because  he  thinks  that  so  to  conceal  it  is  wisest  and  best. 
I  can  only,  with  modesty,  but  without  diffidence,  record  my 
own  opinion  that  this  method  is  for  any  public  speaker 
a  serious  oratorical  mistake.  It  immensely  diminishes  the 
present  effectiveness  of  a  given  discourse  with  the  hearer, 
and  it  powerfully  reacts  to  make  the  orator  himself  less 
clear  in  thought,  less  intent  on  progress  in  argument,  and 
less  urgent  in  aim. 

Of  all  the  printed  discourses  that  I  have  seen  from  Dr. 
Storrs,  the  discourse  last  named,  "  The  Appeal  of  Roman- 
ism to  Educated  Protestants,"  is  probably  the  one  best 
adapted  to  afford  pleasure  and  profit  to  the  average  man. 
It  is  sufficiently  splendid  in  rhetoric,  and  it  gives  the  reader 
what,  as  I  have  implied,  he  often  misses  in  Dr.  Storrs's 
discourse,  a  satisfying  sense  of  progress  continually  made 
from  point  to  point  as  he  reads. 

In  some  of  the  critical  papers  belonging  to  this  series, 
the  writer  finds  occasion  to  point  out  defects  of  literary 
conscience  and  care  on  the  part  of  the  preachers  treated, 
especially  defects  of  this  sort  appearing  in  the  form  of  loose, 
inaccurate  quotation.  Little,  almost  nothing,  of  such  fault 
can  be  brought  home  to  Dr.  Storrs.  He  everywhere  dis- 
plays a  fine  literary  instinct  and  conscience.  Conscience  I 
judge  it  must  be,  as  well  as  mere  instinct;  but  Dr.  Storrs's 


76  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

phenomenal  memory  might  perhaps  ahnost  be  trusted,  in 
conjunction  with  his  instinct,  to  guard  him  against  faults  of 
literary  negligence,  even  if  he  felt  within  himself  no  pricks 
of  literary  conscience  to  be  careful.  It  is  well  known  what 
feats  of  memory  in  matters  of  fact  involving  dates,  and 
numbers,  and  names  of  men  and  places  not  generally 
familiar.  Dr.  Storrs  has  achieved,  pronouncing  without 
notes  discourses  on  historical  subjects  singly  occupying 
hours  of  time. 

This  form  of  memory  is  not,  however,  the  secret  of  Dr. 
Storrs's  success  in  extemporary  speaking.  Real  extem- 
porary speaking  it  is  that  he  does,  not  speaking  from  mem- 
ory. He  neither  writes  his  sermons,  nor  composes  them 
without  writing  as  was  to  some  extent  the  practice  of 
Robert  Hall.  He  premeditates  them,  of  course.  That  is  to 
say,  it  is  not  extemporary  thinking  that  he  gives  his  hear- 
ers; and  much  less  is  it  extemporary  speaking  without 
thought.  It  is  prepared  thought  taking  body  at  the  mo- 
ment, as  of  its  own  accord,  in  unprepared  expression. 
Naturally,  inevitably,  in  the  course  of  previously  preparing 
his  thought,  the  thinker  will  have  called  up  to  his  mind 
many  words  fit  to  the  expression  of  the  thought.  Such 
words  will  instinctively  recur  to  him  in  the  act  of  oral 
delivery.  But  there  will  have  been  little  or  no  framing  of 
sentences.  The  sentences  will  frame  themselves  as  the 
sermon  proceeds.  With  Dr.  Storrs,  however,  the  sentences 
will  not  frame  themselves  in  that  absolutely  simple,  spon- 
taneous, and  therefore  endlessly  varying  order,  the  order 
of  nature,  which  was  the  beautiful  marvel  of  Mr,  Beecher's 
unparalleled  eloquence.  The  mold  of  period  in  which  Dr. 
Storrs  habitually  casts  his  expression  is  much  more  that  of 
written,  than  it  is  that  of  spoken,  discourse.  He  trained 
himself  to  write;  and  when  he  speaks  now  without  having 
written,  it  is  in  the  rhetorical  style  of  composition,  proper 
for  instance  for  one  dictating  elaborate  discourse  for  com- 
mittal to  writing.  The  product  is  wonderfully  fine,  con- 
sidered as  mere  composition  turned  off  at  so  rapid  a  rate. 


RICHARD  SALTER  STORRS 


77 


Still  it  is  necessarily  far  from  being  finished  and  polished 
up  to  the  standard  of  his  confessedly  written  discourse. 

Let  not  the  young  preacher  believe  or  admire  unwisely. 
No  merely  human  speaker  ever  yet  spoke  on  this  planet, 
whose  extemporary  utterance  taken  down  without  change 
absolutely  as  it  fell  from  his  lips  would  read  grammatically, 
rhetorically,  and  logically  clear  of  fault  —  judged,  I  mean, 
by  the  relative  standard  of  that  same  speaker's  own  written 
production.  The  extemporary  utterance  may  be  far  better, 
considered  as  oratory,  than  the  carefully  written;  but  that 
result,  if  it  exist,  will  be  due  to  the  presence  in  the  extem- 
porary utterance  of  certain  virtues  not  belonging  to  the 
written;  it  will  by  no  means  be  due  to  the  absence  from 
the  extemporary,  of  faults  such  as  perhaps  the  written 
utterance  would  altogether  avoid. 

Dr.  Storrs,  then,  as  extemporary  speaker,  presents  an 
example  of  what  long  careful  practice  with  the  pen  will 
enable  a  gifted  man  to  do  in  producing,  if  the  paradox  will 
be  pardoned,  written  discourse  rapidly  with  the  tongue  — 
this,  rather  than  an  example  of  successful  offhand  pulpit 
oratory  strictly  and  properly  so  called.  To  become  a  master 
in  this  latter  kind,  the  only  way  is  to  form  your  style  through 
speaking  rather  than  through  writing.  Write  as  much  as 
you  please,  the  more  the  better,  if  you  write  with  care. 
But  see  to  it  that  you  learn  to  write  as  you  speak,  instead 
of  learning  to  speak  as  you  write. 

At  the  outset  of  this  paper  I  expressed  the  opinion  that 
Dr.  Storrs  had  it  in  him  by  nature  to  become  an  orator  of 
a  very  different  type  from  the  calm,  dignified,  self-contained, 
unimpassioned  speaker  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  prevail- 
ingly is.  I  then  also,  without  naming  it,  alluded  to  a  par- 
ticular occasion  of  his  eloquence  which  I  thought  demon- 
strated this.  That  occasion  was  the  "  Silver  Wedding,"  so 
styled,  in  which  the  twenty-fifth  anniversary  was  celebrated 
of  Mr.  Beecher's  commencing  as  pastor  of  Plymouth  Church. 
One  session  of  that  prolonged  festival  of  commemoration 
was  chiefly  given  up  to  an  address  by  Dr.  Storrs. 


78  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

Dr.  Storrs  was  in  the  prime  of  his  age  and  in  the  fullness 
of  manly  health  refreshed  from  an  interval  just  previously 
enjoyed  of  rest  and  foreign  travel.  The  occasion  was  ani- 
mating, the  subject,  "  Mr.  Beecher  as  a  Preacher,"  was  a 
personal  one  that  touched  and  vivified  the  speaker,  the  reci- 
procity between  speaker  and  hearers  was  perfect,  was  elec- 
tric, and  in  short  all  conditions  conspired  to  put  Dr.  Storrs 
at  his  very  best  in  a  vein  of  truly  natural  eloquence.  The 
result  was  an  address  which,  for  spontaneous  felicity,  beauty, 
humor,  pathos,  power,  Mr.  Beecher  himself  in  his  happiest 
inspirations  rarely  surpassed.  I  wish  every  reader  of  this 
criticism  could  read  that  address  in  full.  It  is  now  hardly 
accessible,  I  suppose.  It  was  preserved  in  a  pamphlet  record 
of  the  entire  occasion,  published  at  the  time ;  but  that  record 
has  long  been  a  rare  publication  difficult  to  find.  I  give  here 
an  extract  or  two.  Does  not  the  following  passage  exhibit 
Dr.  Storrs  in  the  light  of  a  speaker  capable  of  doing  almost 
anything  he  might  please  to  attempt  in  the  way  of  ready, 
effective,  popular  handling  of  a  subject?  The  contrast  will 
be  immediately  felt  between  the  studied  and  stately  rhetoric 
exemplified  in  preceding  citations,  and  the  free,  easy,  mas- 
terful style  exemplified  now.  Dr.  Storrs  is  engaged  in 
analyzing  the  secret  of  Mr.  Beecher's  power.     He  says: 

"  I  think  I  should  put  second  [among  Mr.  Beecher's  endow- 
ments] immense  common  sense ;  a  wonderfully  self-rectifying 
judgment  which  gives  sobriety  and  soundness  to  all  his  main 
processes  of  thought.  I  don't  know  but  I  have  been  more  im- 
pressed by  that  in  Mr.  Beecher  than  by  any  other  one  element 
of  strength  in  him.  I  have  seen  him  go  to  the  edge  of  a 
proposition  which  seemed  to  me  dangerous  and  almost  absurd, 
again  and  again,  but  he  never  went  over.  He  always  caught 
himself  on  the  edge,  not  by  any  special  volition,  but  by  an  in- 
stinctive impulse;  by  the  law  of  a  nature  that  rectifies  mistakes 
almost  before  they  are  made.  If  he  has  taken  an  extravagant 
view  which  seems  about  to  diverge  from  the  solid  ground,  it 
never  fairly  and  finally  does  so.  He  reminds  me  of  sensations 
which  I  have  had  a  hundred  times  in  crossing  the  ocean.     For 


RICHARD  SALTER  STORRS 


79 


instance,  coming  back  from  Europe  in  the  Russia  during  a  heavy 
blow,  we  were  taking  the  waves  '  quartering.'  Down  would  go 
the  starboard  side,  and  up  would  go  the  larboard ;  down  would 
go  the  stern,  and  up  would  go  the  bows ;  then  the  great  ship 
would  ride  for  an  instant  balanced  upon  the  top  of  the  wave ; 
then,  as  she  reeled  over,  the  bows  would  go  down  and  the  stern 
would  go  up ;  the  larboard  side  would  go  down  and  the  star- 
board up ;  but  the  grand  old  ship  would  always  swing  herself 
to  a  level  in  the  valleys  between  those  ridges  of  water.  She 
was  perpetually  diving  or  climbing,  but  balancing  herself  between, 
she  would  always  swing  to  her  level  again.  And  whatever  she 
did,  she  was  forever  going  on  toward  the  distant  harbor.  As  one 
sea-sick  fellow-passenger  of  mine  said,  '  Confound  it,  making 
that  gigantic  figure  8  all  the  time !  *  But  that  gigantic  figure 
8  was  what  was  driving  us  on,  through  storm  or  shine,  toward 
Sandy  Hook." 

This  passage,  let  it  be  observed,  is  itself  like  vf\\zi  it  so 
well  describes  in  the  sea  voyage,  and,  through  that,  in  Mr. 
Beecher,  a  "  figure  8,"  not  "  gigantic,"  indeed,  but  for  its 
purpose  amply  large  enough,  and  everywhere  alive  with 
movement  and  progress.  Such  felicity  and  fitness  in  de- 
scription are  not  the  product  of  forethought  and  labor;  they 
are  the  inspiration  of  genius. 

Of  course  no  such  necessarily  brief  extract  as  it  would 
be  suitable  here  to  introduce  could  do  anything  more  than 
merely  hint,  even  to  the  very  wise  and  thoughtful  reader, 
what  capacity  of  versatile  adjustment  to  the  needs  of  various 
expression  the  whole  noble  and  beautiful  address  exhibits 
as  held  in  possession  by  the  orator.  The  life,  the  movement, 
the  progress,  the  power,  you  must  read  the  address  through- 
out in  order  adequately  to  feel.  I  give  one  more  passage  — 
that  in  which  the  speaker  modulates  humor,  analysis,  anec- 
dote, reminiscence,  all.  to  the  lofty,  pathetic  magnificat  of 
his  close  —  "  pathetic,"  I  feel  it  to  have  been,  in  view  of  what 
was  so  soon  after  to  be !  " 

"  We  have  stood  side  by  side  in  all  these  years ;  and  they  have 
been  wonderful  and  eventful  years. 


8o  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

'  Our  eyes  have  seen  the  glory  of  the  coming  of  the  Lord, 
When   he   loosed   the    fateful   lightnings    of   his   terrible   swift 
sword, 

And  his  truth  went  marching  on ! ' 

"  We  have  differed  many  times,  but  two  men  so  unlike  never 
stood  side  by  side  with  each  other,  for  so  long  a  time,  in  more 
perfect  harmony;  without  a  jealousy  or  a  jar!  Tho  we  have 
differed  in  opinion,  we  have  never  differed  in  feeling.  We  have 
walked  to  the  graves  of  friends  in  company.  We  have  sat  at 
the  table  of  the  Lord  in  company.  He  knows,  as  he  has  said, 
that  when  other  voices  were  loud  and  fierce  in  hostility  to  him, 
mine  never  joined  them.  When  other  pens  wrote  his  name, 
dropping  gall  and  venom  as  they  wrote  it,  my  pen  never  touched 
the  paper  except  in  honor  and  admiration  of  him.  And  I  know 
that  whenever  I  have  wanted  counsel  or  courage,  given  me  from 
others,  he  has  always  been  ready,  from  the  overflowing  surplus 
of  his  surcharged  mind,  to  give  them  to  me. 

"So  we  have  stood  side  by  side  —  blessed  be  God!  —  in  no 
spirit  but  of  fraternal  love,  for  that  long  space  of  twenty-five 
years,  which  began  with  the  Right  Hand  of  Fellowship"  then, 
and  closes  before  you  here  to-night. 

"  I  am  not  here,  my  friends,  to  repeat  the  service  which  then 
I  performed.  It  would  be  superfluous.  When  I  think  of  the 
great  assemblies  that  have  surged  and  thronged  around  this 
platform ;  when  I  think  of  the  influences  that  have  gone  out 
from  this  pulpit  into  all  the  earth  —  I  feel  that  less  than  almost 
any  other  man  on  earth  does  he  need  the  assurance  of  fellowship 
from  any  but  the  Son  of  God !  But  I  am  here  to-night  for  another 
and  a  different  service !  On  behalf  of  you  who  tarry,  and  of 
those  who  have  ascended  from  this  congregation ;  on  behalf  of 
Christians  of  every  name  throughout  our  city,  who  have  had 
such  joy  and  pride  in  him,  and  the  name  of  whose  town  has,  by 
him,  been  made  famous  in  the  earth ;  on  behalf  of  all  our 
churches  now  growing  to  be  an  army;  on  behalf  of  those 
in  every  part  of  our  land  who  have  never  seen  his  face  or  heard 
his  voice,  but  who  have  read  and  loved  his  sermons,  and  been 
quickened  and  blessed  by  them ;  on  behalf  of  the  great  multitudes 
who  have  gone  up  from  every  land  which  his  sermons  have 
reached  —  never  having  touched  his  hand  on  earth,  but  waiting 
to  greet  him  by  and  by ;  I  am  here  to-night  [taking  Mr.  Beecher 


RICHARD  SALTER  STORRS  8 I 

by  the  hand]  to  give  him  the  Right  Hand  of  Congratulation,  on 
the  closing  of  this  twenty-fifth  year  of  his  ministry;  and  to  say: 
God  be  praised  for  all  the  work  that  you  have  done  here !  God 
be  praised  for  the  generous  gifts  which  he  has  showered  upon 
you,  and  the  generous  use  which  you  have  made  of  them,  here 
and  elsewhere,  and  everywhere  in  the  land !  God  give  you  many 
happy  and  glorious  years  of  work  and  joy  still  to  come  in  your 
ministry  on  earth!  May  your  soul,  as  the  years  go  on,  be 
whitened  more  and  more,  in  the  radiance  of  God's  light,  and  in 
the  sunshine  of  his  love!  And,  when  the  end  comes  —  as  it  will 
—  may  the  gates  of  pearl  swing  inward  for  your  entrance,  be- 
fore the  hands  of  those  who  have  gone  up  before  you,  and  who 
now  wait  to  welcome  you  thither!  and  then  may  there  open 
to  you  that  vast  and  bright  eternity  —  all  vivid  with  God's 
love  —  in  which  an  instant  vision  shall  be  perfect  joy,  and  an 
immortal  labor  shall  be  to  you  immortal  rest." 

"  This  magnificent  concluding  passage,"  said  the  Brooklyn 
"  Union  "  of  the  next  day, 

"  was  uttered  with  an  eloquence  that  defies  description.  At  its 
conclusion  Mr.  Beecher,  with  tears,  and  trembling  from  head 
to  foot,  arose,  and  placing  his  hand  on  Dr.  Storrs's  shoulder, 
kissed  him  upon  the  cheek.  The  congregation  sat  for  a  moment 
breathless  and  enraptured  with  this  simple  and  beautiful  action. 
Then  there  broke  from  them  such  a  burst  of  applause  as  never 
before  was  heard  in  an  ecclesiastical  edifice.  There  was  not  a 
dry  eye  in  the  house." 

I  could  not  refrain  from  subjoining  an  immediate  jour- 
nalistic testimony  to  the  overpowering  effect  which  this 
address,  with  its  close,  produced  as  delivered.  Much  doubt- 
less was  in  the  occasion  itself,  and  in  the  moving  spectacular 
response  which  the  eloquent  sincerity  of  Dr.  Storrs  evoked 
from  Mr.  Beecher;  but  what  inextinguishable  quintessence 
of  oratoric  power  survives  even  in  the  printed  words !  For 
my  own  part,  I  am  willing  to  confess  that  I  can  scarcely 
now  read  the  passage  over,  for  perhaps  the  twentieth  time, 
without  tears. 
F 


82  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

It  is  painful,  but  it  seems  necessary,  to  recall  that  within 
a  few  months  of  the  time  when  Dr.  Storrs  poured  out  his 
heart  to  Mr.  Beecher  in  the  manner  just  shown,  that  dark- 
ness as  of  eclipse  passed  suddenly  over  the  face  of  Mr. 
Beecher's  fair  fame,  then  still  riding  high  like  the  sun  at 
midnoon  in  its  zenith  of  glory.  The  long  disastrous  twilight 
that  succeeded  the  daytime  of  splendor ! 

Through  no  fault,  as  I  believe,  of  Dr.  Storrs,  and  for  no 
reason  personal  to  himself,  the  fellowship  which  he  had  but 
now  so  magnanimously  celebrated  was  broken  for  life.  He 
never,  I  think,  unsaid  those  generous  words,  but  also  he 
never,  alas,  could  say  them  again.  "  May  your  soul,  as  you 
go  on,  be  whitened  more  and  more " —  the  wish  and  the 
prayer  half  seems  now  in  the  retrospect  to  have  had  in  it 
already  something  of  the  sadness  of  unconscious  prophetic 
foreboding.  Words  refuse  to  utter  the  burden  of  the  pathos, 
the  tragedy.     Let  us  think  of  it,  not  speak  of  it. 

But  of  Dr.  Storrs  himself,  and  of  his  work,  we  may  freely 
both  think  and  speak  with  unmingled  grateful  joy.  His 
work  is  not  done ;  it  yet,  we  may  hope,  awaits  a  long  glorious 
consummation.  That  work,  when  finished,  we  need  not 
doubt,  will  abide;  and  then  always,  still  greater,  still  better, 
than  his  work,  to  make  his  work  stronger,  more  beautiful, 
will  abide,  unfllawed,  the  character  of  the  man  that 
achieved  it. 


IV 

PHILLIPS  BROOKS 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

As  has  already  been  in  part  intimated,  soon  after  the 
original  "  Homiletic  Review  "  series  of  criticisms  was  com- 
pleted, the  publishers  of  that  monthly,  at  the  instance  of 
the  author  (who  from  the  first  had  in  view  a  subsequent 
collective  edition  in  book  form  of  his  papers),  wrote  to  the 
subjects  of  them  then  still  living,  accompanying  their  com- 
munication with  a  copy  of  the  particular  number,  or  numbers, 
of  the  magazine  called  for  in  each  case,  to  ask  that  they 
would  kindly  point  out  any  error  in  statement  as  to  fact 
into  which  the  author  might  have  been  betrayed.  From 
no  one  of  them  —  unless  the  case,  already  noted,  of  Dr. 
Talmage,  should  be  held  to  constitute  an  exception  —  was 
answer  received  pointing  out  any  such  error.  Bishop  Brooks, 
however,  then  plain  Mr.  Brooks,  very  characteristically  wrote 
in  gentle  deprecation  of  being  made  the  subject  of  critical 
treatment  so  serious,  apparently  not  thinking  it  likely  to  be 
of  real  use.  Perhaps  he  thus  expressed  himself  from  the 
same  manly  modesty  that  made  the  great  man  blush,  when 
once,  years  before,  the  present  writer  addressed  him  by  a  title 
of  distinction  which  he  felt  obliged  to  disclaim.  I  had  been 
introduced  to  him  by  the  venerated  Dr.  A.  P.  Peabody  in 
Appleton  Chapel  at  Harvard,  immediately  after  hearing  him 
preach  there.  With  unconscious,  certainly  with  uninten- 
tional, anticipation  of  what  was  indeed  to  be,  but  of  what 
was  not  yet,  I  addressed  the  eloquent  preacher  as  "  Dr. 
Brooks."  "  I  am  not  doctor,"  he  said,  with  a  prompt  flush 
of  color  mantling  his  cheek.  The  instinctive  impulse  of 
genuineness  in  him  would  not  let  him  for  one  moment,  even 

8S 


86  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

to  a  stranger,  appear  —  and  that  in  the  presence  of  one  who 
knew  the  true  state  of  the  case  —  willing  to  seem  what  he 
was  not. 

It  may  help  "  place "  Phillips  Brooks  as  he  ought  to  be 
placed,  in  the  mind  of  the  reader  of  the  following  criticism, 
if  I  reproduce  here  an  account  which  I  wrote  at  the  time, 
of  a  Sunday  spent  in  hearing  this  great  preacher  preach 
from  his  own  pulpit  in  Trinity  Church,  Boston.  It  was 
a  day  of  added  preparation  for  properly  presenting  him  to 
the  public  in  a  critical  paper.  (Long  habit,  together  with 
perhaps  a  certain  native  aptitude  of  mind,  had  created  in 
me,  I  believe,  some  ability  to  observe  critically,  that  is, 
judgingly,  without  losing  the  personal  profit  to  be  gained 
from  what  was  observed.)  I  entitled  my  little  account, 
"  Phillips  Brooks  at  Home  " : 

"  Phillips  Brooks  at  home,"  of  course,  means  Phillips 
Brooks  in  Trinity  Church,  Boston.  Other  than  his  church, 
home  proper  he  has  none,  for  he  abides  a  bachelor. 

And  somehow  it  seems  almost  fit  that  a  man  like  Mr. 
Brooks,  a  man  so  ample,  so  overflowing;  a  man,  as  it  were, 
more  than  sufificient  to  himself,  sufficient  also  to  a  multitude 
of  others,  should  have  his  home  large  and  public;  such  a 
home,  in  short,  as  Trinity  Church.  Here  Phillips  Brooks 
shines  like  a  sun  —  diffusing  warmth  and  light  and  life. 
What  a  blessing  to  what  a  number !  To  what  a  number  of 
souls,  it  would  have  been  natural  to  say;  but,  almost  as  nat- 
ural, to  what  a  number  of  bodies !  For  the  physical  man  is 
a  source  of  comfort,  in  its  kind,  hardly  less  so  than  the  in- 
tellectual and  the  spiritual.  How  that  massive,  majestic 
manhood  makes  weather  where  it  is,  and  what  weather! 
Broad,  equable,  temperate,  calm ;  yet  tonic  withal,  and  inspir- 
ing. You  rejoice  in  it.  You  have  an  irrational  feeling  that 
it  would  be  a  wrong  to  shut  up  so  much  opulence  of  per- 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS  T,/ 

sonal  vitality  in  any  home  less  wide  and  open  than  a  grcai 
basilica  like  Trinity  Church.  At  least,  you  are  not  pained 
with  sympathy  for  homelessness  in  the  case  of  a  man  so 
richly  endowed.  To  be  so  pained  would  be  like  shivering 
on  behalf  of  the  sun  because,  forsooth,  the  sun  had  nothing 
to  make  him  warm  and  bright.  Phillips  Brooks  in  Trinity 
Church  is  like  the  sun  in  its  sphere.  Still,  and  were  it  not 
impertinent,  I  could  even  wish  for  Phillips  Brooks  an  every- 
day home,  such  as  would  be  worthy  of  him.  What  a  home  it 
should  be !  And,  with  thus  much  of  loyal,  if  of  doubtfully 
appropriate,  tribute,  irresistibly  prompted,  and  therefore  not 
to  be  repressed,  let  me  go  on  to  speak  of  Phillips  Brooks  as 
he  is  to  be  seen  and  heard  Sunday  after  Sunday  at  home  in 
Trinity  Church. 

Everybody  knows  how  magnificent  an  edifice,  with  its  ar- 
rested tower  yet  waiting  and  probably  long  to  wait  comple- 
tion, Trinity  Church  is.  The  interior  is  decorated  almost  to 
the  point  of  gorgeousness.  The  effect,  however,  is  imposing, 
for  "  the  height,  the  gloom,  the  glory."  Good  taste  reigning 
over  lavish  expenditure  has  prevented  chromatic  richness 
from  seeming  to  approach  tawdriness. 

It  is  much  to  say  for  any  man  preaching  here  that  the 
building  does  not  make  him  look  disproportionate,  inadequate. 
This  may  strongly  be  said  for  Phillips  Brooks.  But  even  for 
him  it  cannot  be  said  that  the  form  and  construction  of  the 
interior  do  not  oppose  a  serious  embarrassment  to  the  proper 
effect  of  oratory.  I  could  not  help  feeling  it  to  be  a  great 
wrong  to  the  truth,  or,  to  put  it  personally,  a  great  wrong 
to  the  preacher  and  to  his  hearers,  that  an  audience-room 
should  be  so  broken  up  with  pillars,  angles,  recesses,  so  sown 
with  contrasts  of  light  and  shade,  as  necessarily,  inevitably, 
to  disperse  and  waste  an  immense  fraction  of  the  power 
exerted  by  the  speaker,  whatever  the  measure,  great  or  small, 
of  that  power  might  be.    The  reaction  of  this  audience-room 


88  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

upon  the  oratorical  instinct  and  habit  of  the  man  who  should 
customarily  speak  in  it,  could  not  but  be  disadvantageous  in 
a  very  high  degree,  the  sense,  M^hich  ought  to  live  in  every 
public  speaker,  of  his  being  fast  bound  in  a  grapple  of  mind 
to  mind,  and  heart  to  heart,  and  soul  to  soul,  with  his  audi- 
ence, must  be  oppressed,  if  not  extinguished,  amid  such 
architectural  conditions  as  those  which  surround  Phillips 
Brooks  where  he  stands  to  preach.  That  in  him  this  needful 
sense  is  not  extinguished,  is  a  thing  to  be  thankful  for. 
That  it  is  in  fact  oppressed,  I  cannot  doubt.  There  is  evi- 
dence of  it,  I  think,  in  his  manner  of  preaching. 

For  Mr.  Brooks  is  not  an  orator  such  as  Mr.  Beecher  was. 
He  does  not  speak  to  people,  into  people,  as  Mr.  Beecher  did ; 
rather  he  speaks  before  them,  in  their  presence.  He  solilo- 
quizes. There  is  almost  a  minimum  of  mutual  relation  be- 
tween speaker  and  hearer.  Undoubtedly  the  swift,  urgent 
monolog  is  quickened,  reinforced,  by  the  consciousness  of  an 
audience  present.  That  consciousness,  of  course,  penetrates 
to  the  mind  of  the  speaker.  But  it  does  not  dominate  the 
speaker's  mind;  it  does  not  turn  monolog  into  dialog;  the 
speech  is  monolog  still. 

This  is  not  invariably  the  case;  for,  occasionally,  the 
preacher  turns  his  noble  face  toward  you,  and  for  that  in- 
stant you  feel  the  aim  of  his  discourse  leveled  full  at  your 
personality.  Now  there  is  a  glimpse  of  true  oratorical 
power.  But  the  glimpse  passes  quickly.  The  countenance 
is  again  directed  forward  toward  the  horizon,  or  even  lifted 
toward  a  quarter  of  the  sky  above  the  horizon,  and  the  but 
momentarily  interrupted  rapt  soliloquy  proceeds. 

Such  I  understand  to  have  been  the  style  of  Robert  Hall's 
pulpit  speech.  It  is  a  rare  gift  to  be  a  speaker  of  this  sort. 
The  speaker  must  be  a  thinker  as  well  as  a  speaker.  The 
speech  is,  in  truth,  a  process  of  thinking  aloud  —  thinking 
accelerated,  exhilarated,  by  the  vocal  exercise  accompanying, 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS  '  89 

and  then,  too,  by  the  bHndfold  sense  of  a  listening  audience 
near.    This  is  the  preaching  of  Mr.  Brooks. 

It  is,  perhaps,  not  generally  known  that  Mr.  Brooks  prac- 
tices two  distinct  methods  of  preaching:  one,  that  with  the 
manuscript;  the  other,  that  without.  The  last  time  that  I 
had  the  chance  of  a  Sunday  in  Trinity  Church  was  Luther's 
day,  the  tercentenary  of  his  death.  The  morning  discourse 
was  a  luminous  and  generous  appreciation  of  the  great  Re- 
former's character  and  work.  This  was  read,  in  that  rapid, 
vehement,  incessant  manner  which  description  has  made 
sufficiently  familiar  to  the  public.  The  precipitation  of  utter- 
ance is  like  the  flowing  forth  of  the  liquid  contents  of  a  bottle 
suddenly  inverted;  every  word  seems  hurrying  to  be  fore- 
most. The  unaccustomed  hearer  is  at  first  left  hopelessly 
in  the  rear;  but  presently  the  contagion  of  the  speaker's 
rushing  thought  reaches  him,  and  he  is  drawn  into  the  wake 
of  that  urgent  ongoing;  he  is  towed  along  in  the  great  mul- 
titudinous convoy  that  follows  the  mighty  motor-vessel 
steaming,  unconscious  of  the  weight  it  bears,  across  the  sea 
of  thought.  The  energy  is  sufficient  for  all ;  it  overflows  so 
amply  that  you  scarcely  feel  it  not  to  be  your  own  energy. 
The  writing  is  like  in  character  to  the  speaking  —  continu- 
ous, no  break,  no  shock,  no  rest,  not  much  change  of  swifter 
and  slower,  till  the  end.  The  apparent  mass  of  the  speaker, 
physical  and  mental,  might  at  first  seem  equal  to  making  up 
a  full  adequate  momentum,  without  multiplication  by  such  a 
component  of  velocity;  but  by  and  by  you  come  to  feel  that 
the  motion  is  a  necessary  part  of  the  power. 

In  the  afternoon,  Mr.  Brooks  took  Luther's  "  The  just 
shall  live  by  faith,"  and  preached  from  it  extemporarily. 
The  character  of  the  composition  and  of  the  delivery  was 
strikingly  the  same  as  that  belonging  to  the  morning's  dis- 
course. It  was  hurried,  impetuous  soliloquy;  in  this  par- 
ticular case,  hurried  first,  and  then  impetuous.     That  is,  I 


90 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


judged  from  various  little  indications  that  Mr.  Brooks  used 
his  will  to  urge  himself  on  against  some  obstructiveness  felt 
in  the  current  mood  and  movement  of  his  mind.  But  it  was 
a  noteworthy  discourse,  full  and  fresh  with  thought.  The 
interpretation  put  upon  Luther's  doctrine  of  justification  by 
faith  was  free  rather  than  historic.  If  one  should  apply  the 
formula,  truth  plus  personality,  the  personality  —  Mr. 
Brooks's  personality  —  would  perhaps  be  found  to  prevail, 
in  the  interpretation,  over  the  strict  historic  truth. 

Thus  far  the  report,  made  at  the  moment,  of  those  two 
Sunday  occasions  of  hearing  Phillips  Brooks  "  at  home." 

It  was  to  the  critic  himself  a  welcome  reassurance  to  re- 
ceive, shortly  after  the  first  appearing  of  the  following  paper, 
a  very  carefully  written  letter  of  length,  warmly  approving 
it,  from  a  distinguished  divine,  now  no  longer  living,  who 
had  been  a  loyal  and  loving  classmate  of  Bishop  Brooks  at 
Harvard.  Personal  touch,  sufficiently  long  continued,  is  a 
means  of  knowing  a  man  that  nothing  else  can  equal ;  and  it 
may  serve  to  give  the  reader  of  the  criticism  increased  con- 
fidence in  its  conclusions  concerning  the  intimate  character, 
intellectual,  moral,  religious,  of  the  man  criticised,  to  learn 
that  a  college  classmate,  of  competent  qualification  to  judge, 
who  knew  him  closely,  was  willing  to  attest  the  representa- 
tion of  him  as  sympathetically  just  and  adequate.  The 
attestation  expressly  included  both  what  was  said  in  unquali- 
fied, and  what  was  said  in  qualified,  praise  of  the  illustrious 
subject. 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

Phillips  Brooks  is  easily  foremost  in  fame  among  all  the 
living  pulpit  orators  of  the  Episcopal  Church  in  America. 
This  praise  i^  more  moderate  in  fact  than  in  terms  it  seems; 
for  the  American  Episcopal  Church  is  not  rich  in  great  pul- 
pit orators.  At  any  rate,  the  praise  is  less  than  may  in 
justice,  nay,  in  justice  must,  be  bestowed.  Now  that  Henry 
Ward  Beecher  is  silent,  no  pulpit  voice  speaks  anywhere  in 
this  land  that  is  heard  farther  than  Phillips  Brooks's,  and  at 
the  same  time  heard  with  as  much  heed  from  the  cultivated 
and  intellectual  as  is  his.  Mr.  Brooks  enjoys  justly  the 
reputation  of  being  a  thinker  as  well  as  a  preacher,  a  fruitful 
brain  as  well  as  an  eloquent  tongue.  His  quality,  indeed, 
is  somewhat  like  that  of  F.  W.  Robertson ;  like,  but  different 
no  less.  There  was  a  strain  of  the  morbidly  intense  in  Rob- 
ertson; but  Mr.  Brooks  is,  as  it  were,  almost  superfluously 
sane.  His  virile  vigor  overflows.  The  towering  stature, 
the  mighty  mass,  of  the  physical  man  but  fitly  symbolize  the 
health,  the  robustness,  of  the  intellect  that  is  his. 

Still  there  is  a  fineness,  too,  of  fibre  interwoven  with  the 
sinewy  strength  of  Phillips  Brooks's  mind  which  modifies 
the  impression  of  mere  power  in  him,  almost,  at  times,  takes 
this  away,  replacing  it,  or  half  replacing  it,  with  an  impres- 
sion of  something  different  from  power,  something  in  fact 
which,  though  it  is  unmistakably  masculine  by  quantity,  is, 
in  fundamental  quality,  feminine  rather.  There  are,  in 
short,  moments  with  Mr.  Brooks,  when,  for  all  his  manly 
mind,  he  appears  to  tremble  on  the  verge  of  being  an  out- 
right sentimentalist.  It  is  appearance  only,  not  fact;  but 
the  appearance  is  so  vividly  like  fact  that  its  illusory  char- 
acter needs  first,  with  some  care,  to  be  shown,  before  that 
high  praise  can  safely  be  awarded  to  this  remarkable  man 

91 


92 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


which  he  deserves,  and  which  the  writer  can  at  once  gratify 
himself  and  serve  his  readers  by  freely,  while  discrimin- 
atively,  bestowing. 

Take,  for  instance,  that  idea  which  Mr.  Brooks  makes 
central  and  pivotal  in  his  preaching,  namely,  the  idea  of  the 
universal,  indiscriminate  fatherhood  of  God  to  men.  In 
such  expressions  as  those  now  to  be  quoted  from  him,  of 
this  idea,  is  it  not  the  language  of  pure  sentimentalism  that 
at  first  thought  Mr.  Brooks  seems  to  one  to  be  using? 

"  The  inspiring  idea  [of  Jesus]  is  the  fatherhood  of  God  and 
the  childhood  of  every  man  to  Him.  Upon  the  race  and  upon 
the  individual,  Jesus  is  always  bringing  into  more  and  more 
perfect  revelation  the  certain  truth  that  man,  and  every  man, 
is  the  child  of  God." 

Mr.  Brooks  is  very  strong,  very  sweeping,  not  hastily  but 
deliberately  so,  on  this  point.     He  says: 

"  This  is  the  sum  of  the  work  of  the  Incarnation.  .  .  .  All 
statements  concerning  Him  hold  their  truth  within  this  truth, 
—  that  Jesus  came  to  restore  the  fact  of  God's  fatherhood  to 
man's  knowledge.  .  .  .  He  is  the  redeemer  of  man  into  the 
fatherhood  of  God.  .  .  .  Man  is  the  child  of  God  by  na- 
ture. He  is  ignorant  and  rebellious, —  the  prodigal  child  of  God; 
but  his  ignorance  and  rebellion  never  break  that  first  relationship. 
.  .  .  To  reassert  the  fatherhood  and  childhood  as  an  unlost 
truth,  and  to  reestablish  its  power  as  the  central  fact  of  life ;  to 
tell  men  that  they  were,  and  to  make  them  actually  be,  the  sons 
of  God  —  that  was  the  purpose  of  the  coming  of  Jesus,  and  tbe 
shaping  power  of  His  life." 

Mr.  Brooks  seems  almost  to  be  escaping,  evading,  the 
obligation  to  prove  that  his  sentiment  is  the  doctrine  of 
Scripture,  when  he  uses,  concerning  it,  the  following  half 
mystical  language: 

Of  course,  it  is  not  possible  to  speak  of  such  an  idea  —  which 
is,  indeed,  the  idea  of  the  universe  —  as  if  it  were  a  message 
intrusted  to  the  Son  of  God  when  He  came  to  be  the  Savior  of 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 


93 


mankind.     It   was    not   only   something   which   He   knew    and 
taught;   it  was   something  which  He  was." 

Again,  when  you  read  confident  guesses  like  the  following, 
you  seem  to  be  listening  rather  to  one  who  speaks  from  his 
own  sentiment,  than  to  one  who  gets  his  communication 
from  authority  outside  of  and  above  himself: 

"  He  [Jesus]  must  have  become  aware  that  all  men  were 
God's  sons,  and  felt  the  desire  to  tell  them  so  and  make  their 
sonship  a  reality,  kindling  like  fire  within  Him,  just  in  proportion 
as  He  came  to  know,  softly  and  gradually,  under  the  skies  of 
Galilee  and  the  roof  of  the  carpenter,  the  deep  and  absorbing 
mystery  that  He  himself  was  the  Son  of  God." 

It  does  not  take  you  by  surprise  —  after  an  expression  so 
close  on  the  border  of  the  sentimental  as  the  foregoing  —  to 
find  Mr.  Brooks  saying: 

"  It  is  not  my  purpose  to  prove  here  that  this  which  I  have 
given  is  a  true  statement  of  the  idea  of  Jesus." 

That  looks,  at  first,  like  an  easy  air  of  superiority,  on  Mr. 
Brooks's  part,  in  declining  to  seek,  in  Scripture,  proof  for  his 
central  idea.  And  when,  notwithstanding,  some  ostensible 
proof  from  Scripture  is  adduced,  the  apparent  negligence 
with  which  the  process  is  conducted,  confirms  your  impres- 
sion that  the  speaker  felt  such  resort  on  his  part  to  be  quite 
unnecessary.     Mr.  Brooks  says : 

"  If  any  man  had  a  doubt,  I  should  only  want  to  open  the 
Gospel  with  him  at  four  most  solemn  places." 

Of  these  four  places,  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son  is 
the  first.  This,  Mr.  Brooks  dismisses,  as  perhaps,  in  the 
view  of  some,  "  too  metaphorical,"  and  turns  to  the  "  Lord's 
Prayer,"  so-called.    He  says: 

"Hear  Him  [Jesus]  teaching  all  men  to  pray,  'Our  Father, 
who  art  in  heaven.' " 


94  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

Of  course,  the  force  of  this  reference  lies  in  Mr.  Brooks's 
expression  "  all  men."  How  negligently  that  expression  is 
here  used  becomes  at  once  apparent  the  moment  you  remem- 
ber that  Jesus  was  not  speaking  to  "  all  men "  when  he 
taught  that  prayer.  He  had  withdrawn  from  the  general 
"  multitudes  "  into  a  mountain,  and  it  was  "  his  disciples  " 
to  whom  he  now  spoke.  "  His  disciples "  are,  throughout 
the  discourse,  a  limited  class,  discriminated  from  men  in 
general,  from  "  all  men,"  in  such  expressions  as,  "  When 
men  shall  reproach  you." 

This  is  according  to  the  narrative  of  Matthew.  Luke 
tells  us  that  "  one  of  his  disciples  said  unto  him,  Lord,  teach 
tis  to  pray,  even  as  John  also  taught  his  disciples.  And  he 
said  unto  them" — whereupon  follows  the  alternative  form 
of  the  same  prayer.  Jesus,  therefore,  in  the  expression, 
"Our  Father,"  taught  not  the  fatherhood  of  God  to  "all 
men,"  but  the  fatherhood  of  God  to  his  own  disciples. 

Mr.  Brooks's  third  place  is  that  saying  of  Jesus,  uttered 
by  him  when  just  risen  from  the  dead:  "I  ascend  unto  my 
Father  and  to  your  Father."  This  —  as  Mr.  Brooks  him- 
self intimates,  but  intimates  without  apparent  consciousness 
that  he  thereby  vacates  his  citation  of  all  force  to  prove 
the  universal  fatherhood  of  God  —  this,  I  say,  and  this  Mr, 
Brooks  implies,  establishes  only  God's  relation  of  father  to 
the  "  disciples  "  of  Jesus. 

Mr.  Brooks's  last  text  is  an  example  of  negligence,  or  of 
apparent  negligence,  on  his  part,  more  remarkable  still.  He 
quotes :  "  To  as  many  as  received  Him,  to  them  gave  He 
power  to  become  the  sons  of  God." 

This,  as  a  proof-text  for  "  the  certain  truth  that  man,  and 
every  man,  is  a  child  of  God  " —  assuredly  it  is  surprising, 
extraordinary  even.  No  one  could  have  brought  it  forward 
as  such  who  was  not  fully  prepossessed  with  the  persuasion 
of  its  being  unnecessary  to  prove  in  any  way  whatever  a 
doctrine  assumed  to  be  so  self-evidently  true.  To  any  other 
man  than  such  a  man  it  must  inevitably  have  occurred  to 
inquire:  "Why,  if  all  men  are  indefeasibly  children  of  God, 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 


95 


should  it  have  been  needful  for  Christ  to  give  a  certain 
limited  number  of  men  power  (or  privilege)  to  become 
such? " 

Does  such  a  course  of  remark  from  Mr.  Brooks  show  that 
at  heart  he  feels  independent  of  Scripture,  free  to  make 
Scripture  mean  whatever  he  chooses?  It  looks  like  that  at 
first.  But  we  should,  so  thinking,  do  Mr.  Brooks  injustice. 
He  is  truly  and  profoundly  reverent,  obediently  so,  in  pres- 
ence of  the  Word  of  God.  How,  then,  explain  a  handling 
of  texts  that  at  least  seems  so  irreverent?  Thus:  Mr. 
Brooks  is  right,  and  is  scriptural,  in  his  thought;  it  is  only 
in  his  image  for  his  thought  that,  whether  or  not  right,  he 
at  least  is  not  scriptural.  His  real  reverence  for  Scripture 
as  a  whole  simply  did  not  keep  him  from  displaying  an 
apparent  irreverence  toward  particular  places  of  Scripture. 

What  Mr.  Brooks  means  by  the  sonship  of  every  man  to 
God  is  every  man's  potential  sonship  to  God.  That  adjective, 
or  its  equivalent,  must  be  understood  as  silently  present  to 
qualify  the  seemingly  unqualified  assertion  of  universal 
human  sonship  of  God,  wherever  such  assertion  occurs  in 
Mr.  Brooks's  discourse.  The  fatherhood  of  God  to  man- 
kind is  simply  Mr.  Brooks's  formula  for  expressing  the  idea 
contained  in  that  Gospel-laden  text,  "  God  so  loved  the  world 
that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son  that  whosoever  believeth 
on  him  might  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life." 

Scriptural,  then,  the  thought  is  that  underlies  Mr.  Brooks's 
formula.  But  is  the  formula  itself  scriptural?  Yes  and 
no,  both  at  once ;  scriptural  the  formula  is,  but  not  scrip- 
tural as  expression  for  that  thought.  God  is  willing  to  save 
everybody,  and  everybody  that  is  willing  to  be  saved  by 
God,  God  saves.  Those  are  the  scriptural  ideas,  and  those 
ideas  are  Mr.  Brooks's.  But  the  image  or  figure  of  father- 
hood, on  God's  part,  is  used  by  the  Bible  in  one  application, 
and  by  Mr.  Brooks  in  another.  Everybody  that  may  he 
saved  (or,  in  one  word,  everybody)  is  God's  child,  accord- 
ing to  Mr.  Brooks ;  everybody  that  is  saved  is  God's  child, 
according  to  the  Bible. 


96  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

Of  some  confusion  in  thinking,  I  do  not,  in  my  own  mind, 
acquit  Mr.  Brooks,  while  thus  gladly  acquitting  him  of  any 
departure  from  scriptural  truth  in  the  final  result  of  his 
thought.  Unconsciously,  he  was  justifying  himself  out  of 
Scripture  in  two  distinct  particulars  —  particulars  which  he 
had  carelessly  permitted  to  become  blended  in  one  to  his 
mind.  The  first  particular  was  his  idea  itself,  namely,  the 
idea  that  God  was  willing  to  save  everybody.  The  second 
particular  was  his  choice  of  form  for  his  idea,  namely,  the 
image  of  fatherhood,  on  God's  part,  to  everybody.  The 
parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son  seemed  for  a  moment  to  justify 
him  in  both  particulars  at  once.  In  his  idea  it  certainly  did 
justify  him;  but  in  his  form  for  his  idea  it  only  seemed  to 
do  so,  for  the  passage  was  a  parable.  The  idea  having,  in 
the  first  citation,  been  sufficiently  justified,  Mr.  Brooks, 
apparently  without  perceiving  that  he  does  so,  devotes  the 
other  three  citations  exclusively  to  adducing  Scriptural  ex- 
amples for  the  use  of  the  image  of  Divine  fatherhood. 
These,  of  course,  he  easily  finds;  but  they,  when  found, 
prove  to  present  fatherhood  in  a  quite  different  relation 
from  that  in  which  he  himself  was  presenting  it.  Mr. 
Brook's  scriptural  examples  make  God  father  to  a  select 
class  of  persons,  instead  of  making  God  father  to  all  men 
indiscriminately. 

Does,  then,  an  unconscious  wavering  in  Mr.  Brooks's  own 
mind  betray  itself  —  it  at  least  seems  to  do  so  —  in  those 
places  where,  with  one  breath,  he  declares  that  "  man,  and 
every  man,  is  the  child  of  God,"  and,  then,  with  the  next 
breath,  speaks  of  "making  men  actually  be  the  sons  of 
God?"  Perhaps  not;  but  if  not,  there  must  be  supposed  a 
contrast  not  expressed  existing  in  the  speaker's  mind  be- 
tween potential  and  actual  sonship  to  God.  It  is  potential 
sonship  to  God  that  Mr.  Brooks  predicates  of  "man,  and 
every  man  " ;  it  is  actual  sonship  that  he  seeks  to  help  every 
man  realize.  We  can  all  accept  his  thought  thus  inter- 
preted; his  expression  for  his  thought  we  could,  some  of  us, 
sincerely  wish  were  one  less  likely  to  be  mischievously  mis- 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS  97 

understood.  But  Mr.  Brooks's  own  belief  evidently  is,  that 
he  shall  best  win  men  to  be,  by  freely  declaring  to  them 
that  they  are  (potentially),  sons  of  God.  The  suppressed 
qualifying  word  often,  it  is  much  to  be  feared,  the  average 
hearer  will  neglect  to  supply.  Told  that  he  is  now,  nay, 
almost  that  he  is  forever  to  be,  a  child  of  God,  he  may  be 
misled  to  draw  the  Universalist  conclusion,  and,  for  the 
present,  rest  in  the  assurance  that,  whatever  his  actual 
attitude  may  be  toward  God,  God  will  certainly  find  out  some 
way  at  last  to  rescue  his  own  child.  Such  an  assurance 
Mr.  Brooks  nowhere,  that  I  find,  in  terms  ofifers  to  any  one ; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  such  an  assurance  Mr.  Brooks  in 
terms  nowhere,  that  I  find,  takes  away.  What  his  own 
intimate  personal  conviction  on  the  point  involved  may  be, 
he  seems  to  cover  in  impenetrable  silence. 

It  was  necessary  to  be  thus  full  on  the  topic  of  Mr. 
Brooks's  favorite  idea,  that  of  the  universal  fatherhood  of 
God,  both  because  the  idea  is  so  deep,  so  central,  in  his 
teachings,  and  because  it  was  not  possible  in  less  space  to 
reach  fairly  that  favorable  interpretation  for  the  idea,  with- 
out the  distinct  and  verified  statement  of  which,  the  praise 
to  be  bestowed  on  the  general  tenor  of  his  discourse  might 
naturally  be  mistaken  as  bestowed  on  doctrine  at  variance 
with  Scripture.  One  may  regret  that  Mr.  Brooks  has 
chosen,  as  he  has,  his  form  of  expression;  but  one  can  re- 
main free,  notwithstanding,  to  be  glad  and  thankful  that 
underneath  the  doubtful  language  is  couched  a  meaning  so 
true  and  so  noble.  If  Mr.  Brooks  had  really  meant  that 
"  man,  and  every  man,  is  the  child  of  God  "  now,  in  the 
same  sense  in  which  Jesus  seeks  to  make  men  "  actually  be  " 
children  of  God,  why  that  notion  one  would  have  to  pro- 
nounce a  mere  sentiment  of  the  preacher,  instead  of  a  doc- 
trine from  above;  and  Mr.  Brooks  would  then  be,  what,  in 
fact  he  for  a  moment  seemed,  but  only  seemed,  a  religious 
sentimentalist,  instead  of  a  teacher  of  Divine  truth. 

The  foregoing  citations  have  all  of  them  been  made  from 
Mr.   Brooks's   volume   containing  the   lectures  delivered  by 
G 


98  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

him  in  Philadelphia  on  the  John  Bohlen  foundation  in  1879. 
In  these  lectures  it  is  that  Mr.  Brooks  most  expressly  ex- 
pounds that  idea  of  the  fatherhood  of  God  which  is 
implicitly  present  throughout  all  his  teaching  and  preaching. 
One  more  citation  from  the  same  source  seems  to  seal  it  for 
certain  that  I  have  not  gone  amiss  in  favorably  interpreting, 
as  I  have  done,  Mr.  Brooks's  often  too  ambiguous  expressions 
on  this  capital  point.  Fitly  alluding  to  that  founder,  "  on 
whose  behalf,"  as  he  says,  he  was  "  in  some  sort "  speaking, 
the  lecturer  testified  that  he  had  known  no  man  "  more  in- 
spired by  his  Lord's  revelation  that  he  was,  more  obedient 
and  trustful  to  his  Lord's  authority  in  order  that  he  might 
become,  the  son  of  God."  To  be  the  son  of  God  did  not,  then, 
according  to  Mr.  Brooks,  render  it  unnecessary  that  a  man 
should  also  become  the  son  of  God.  This  can  only  mean 
that  the  human  sonship  to  God  revealed  as  already  existing 
is  potential  sonship,  and  that  the  actual  sonship  is  the  result 
of  a  becoming. 

Of  Mr.  Brooks's  John  Bohlen  lectures  (published  under 
the  title,  "  The  Influence  of  Jesus  on  the  Moral  Life  of 
Man"),  it  must  be  said  that  they  form  on  the  whole  the 
least  satisfactory  of  the  author's  works.  They  have  the  in- 
felicity of  being  an  exposition  less  of  a  thought  than  of  a 
figurative  expression  for  a  thought,  and  that  a  figurative  ex- 
pression already  Hby  Scripture  far  more  happily  appropriated 
to  a  different  thought  from  the  thought,  great  indeed,  and 
true  in  itself,  to  which  the  speaker  sought  now  to  adapt  it. 
One  becoming  acquainted  with  Mr.  Brooks  first  through  his 
"  Influence  of  Jesus,"  would  then  have  to  read  him  some- 
what largely,  as  he  appears  in  other  expressions  of  himself, 
to  overcome  a  feeling,  quite  contrary  to  the  fact,  that  he  is  a 
religious  sentimentalist. 

To  one  who  does  read  Mr.  Brooks  somewhat  largely, 
through  the  full  range  of  his  productions,  the  quality  in  him 
that  at  length  comes  to  seem  the  most  striking,  as  it  is  also 
the  most  persuasive,  is  a  compound  quality,  a  character  made 
up  of  two  elements,  an  intellectual  and  a  moral:  or  to  name 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 


99 


them  in  the  true  order  of  their  actual  precedence  in  Mr. 
Brooks's  case,  a  moral  and  an  intellectual.  The  twofold 
trait  to  which  I  refer  is  moral  height  resting  on  intellectual 
breadth.  The  breadth  is  nearly  enough  for  the  height; 
which  is  much  to  say,  for  the  height  is  great.  I  should  not 
know  what  writer  to  name  as  surpassing  Mr.  Brooks  in  con- 
stant noble  elevation  of  moral  tone.  To  read  him  is  like 
breathing  mountain  air.  You  are  braced,  invigorated,  ex- 
hilarated. I  will  defy  you  to  be  a  mean  man  while  you  are 
enjoying  Mr.  Brooks's  discourses.  The  exercise  is  a  specific 
—  as  long  as  it  lasts.  Your  moral  nature  is  aerated,  ethereal- 
ized,  in  drawing  that  empyreal  breath.  Of  course  this  ex-  / 
perience  of  yours  penetrates  no  deeper  than  your  sentiment, ""' 
unless  you  convert  noble  inspiration  into  noble  character 
and  noble  conduct.  But  that  superficialness  of  result,  if  it 
exist,  will  be  your  fault,  not  the  fault  of  the  author.  The 
inspiration  was  heavenly  all  the  same. 

And  truly  of  heaven  is  the  inspiration  that  is  breathed 
in  Mr.  Brooks's  productions.  I  make  in  this  respect  no  dis- 
tinction among  his  printed  works,  which,  all  of  them,  if 
not  formally  sermons,  and  therefore  formally  religious,  are 
sermons  in  effect  and  in  effect  religious.  Mr.  Brooks  never 
ceases  to  be  a  preacher  in  what  he  gives  to  the  public.  A 
real  preacher,  too,  and  not  a  mere  pulpit  orator.  His  moral 
tone  is  a  distinctly  Christian  moral  tone.  Christ  is  Lord 
to  him,  and  he  constantly  seeks  to  make  Christ  Lord  to  his 
fellow-men.  Those  words  of  his  already  quoted  fairly  rep- 
resent the  conscious  purpose  of  his  ministry  —  the  words 
I  mean  used  by  him  in  describing  his  friend:  "Obedient 
and  trustful  to  his  Lord's  authority  in  order  that  he  might 
become  the  son  of  God."  The  plea  of  "  sonship  to  God," 
the  claim  of  "  love "  for  Christ,  do  not,  with  Mr.  Brooks, 
supersede  and  replace  painstaking  obedience. 

Mr.  Brooks  has  a  striking  sermon  on  loving  God  "  with 
the  mind."  He  could  write  such  a  sermon,  for,  evidently, 
his  own  mind  takes  joyful  part  in  his  affection  for  God. 
Accordingly,  the  two  elements  which  I  have  attempted  to 


lOO  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT.  DISCOURSE 

distinguish  as  moral  height  and  intellectual  breadth  run  to- 
gether in  him  and  become  inseparably  one.  The  height  is 
intellectual  as  well  as  moral;  and  the  breadth  is  moral  as 
well  as  intellectual. 

In  my  own  individual  judgment,  Mr.  Brooks's  moral 
• '  breadth  and  inclusiveness  are  in  measure  too  generous.  He 
passes  the  bound  in,  for  example,  his  kindness  toward  the 
ethnic  religions,  as  Buddhism,  apparently  believing  these 
better  than  in  strict  truth  they  are.  You  perhaps  say.  That, 
if  a  mistake  on  his  part — is  it  not  an  intellectual  rather 
than  a  moral  mistake?  Intellectual,  yes;  but  having  its 
spring  in  moral  character. 

That  spirit  in  Mr.  Brooks  which  might  be  called  his 
"  Broad-Church  "  tendency,  found,  perhaps,  its  extreme  ex- 
pression in  his  sermon  delivered  on  occasion  of  the  Two 
Hundred  and  Fiftieth  Anniversary  of  Harvard.  He  went 
a  long  distance  there  in  the  liberal  direction  —  too  long,  I 
think.  But  he  fetched  himself  short  again  at  last  by  loyally 
yielding  to  the  tether  which  seems  always  to  hold  him  in- 
tellectually as  well  as  spiritually  obedient  to  Christ.  He 
closed  by  saying :  "  May  He,  who  has  been  our  Master  from 
the  far-off  beginning,  be  our  Master  ever  more  and  more 
acknowledged,  ever  more  and  more  obeyed,  on  even  to  the 
distant  end !  " 

The  truth  is,  Mr.  Brooks  is  magnanimous;  but  —  one 
hates  to  say  it,  for  it  seems  like  a  confession  of  the  opposite 
'  fault  in  one's  self  —  he  is  too  magnanimous.  He  thinks  too 
^'  well  of  human  nature ;  or,  at  least,  he  trusts  too  much  in  the 
\  appeal  to  potential  goodness  in  man.  This  appeal,  however, 
is  his  ripe  and  deliberate  choice.  If  the  choice  is  a  mistake, 
the  mistake  is  at  least  one  honorable  to  the  man  who  com- 
mits it  —  who  commits  it,  that  is  to  say,  like  Mr.  Brooks, 
in  clear  sincerity  and  truth.  For  Mr.  Brooks  no  doubt 
honestly  thinks  that  men  have  been  preached  to  too  much 
on  their  bad  side  and  not  enough  on  their  good  side.  He 
will  do  what  he  can  to  redress  the  balance. 

We  thus  come  upon  the  true  explanation  of  language,  on 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS  10 1 

Mr.  Brooks's  part,  that  costs  to  the  casual  reader  or  hearer 
concerned  for  the  truth  of  the  Gospel,  real  anxiety  not 
unmixed  with  sorrow.  To  a  great  popular  assembly  gath- 
ered one  Sunday  evening,  last  winter,  in  Faneuil  Hall,  Mr. 
Brooks  preached  his  favorite  idea  from  the  text,  "  Like  as 
a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them  that 
fear  him."  He  then,  as  reported,  apparently  verbatim,  by 
the  Boston  Herald  said: 

"  We  are  His  children,  whether  the  best  or  the  worst  of  us, 
those  who  are  living  the  most  upright  lives,  as  well  as  those 
the  most  profligate,  are  all  Christ's  children." 

He  said,  also: 

"  Men  are  so  commonly  preached  to  that  they  are  a  great  deal 
wickeder  than  they  are,  that  they  must  not  set  so  high  worth 
upon  humanity.  I  tell  you  we  want  another  kind  of  preaching 
along  with  that.  There  is  in  every  man  something  greater  than 
he  has  begun  to  dream  of.  Men  are  nobler  than  they  think 
themselves.  When  a  man  gives  himself  in  consecration  to 
Jesus  Christ,  then  that  nobility  comes  forth  until  he  shines 
like  a  star.     Go  home  and  believe  in  yourselves  more." 

The  words  I  have  italicized  are  certainly  words  that  would 
read  strangely  out  of  place  in  the  Bible.  They  seem  to 
contain  advice  far  from  soundly  evangelical.  They  look 
like  encouraging  pride  more  than  humility.  But  Mr.  Brooks 
did  not  so  mean  them.  He  meant  them  for  the  potential 
man,  not  for  the  actual ;  and  so  taken  they  are  true.  The 
trouble  is,  that  the  actual  man  will,  in  so  many  cases,  keep 
them  to  himself,  and  never  pass  them  on  to  the  potential 
man  for  whom  they  were  intended ! 

Almost  worse  appears  the  following  expression : 

"  What  He  [Jesus  Christ]  is  trying  to  do  is  to  make  these 
people  ["  the  violent,  the  most  dissipated,  the  most  brutalized,"] 
feel  just  as  he  feels;  not  to  put  into  them  something  that  is  not 
there,  hut  to  call  out  that  which  is  in  them." 


J 


102  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

This  certainly  seems  to  teach  that  men  need  nothing  but 
good  training  in  order  to  develop  into  Christians.  But,  in 
truth,  Mr.  Brooks  is  thinking  all  the  time  of  what  men  are 
potentially,  of  what  they  may  become.  Does  this  seem  over- 
strained charity  in  interpreting  —  perverse  determination,  on 
the  present  writer's  part,  to  bring  Mr.  Brooks  out  orthodox, 
even  in  spite  of  himself?  Read,  again,  the  following,  from 
Mr.  Brooks's  last  volume,  "  Twenty  Sermons,"  p.  217 : 

"  I  have  no  patience  with  the  foolish  talk  which  would  make 
sin  nothing  but  imperfection,  and  would  preach  that  man  needs 
nothing  but  to  have  his  deficiencies  supplied,  to  have  his  native 
goodness  educated  and  brought  out,  in  order  to  be  all  that  God 
would  have  him  be.  The  horrible  incompetency  of  that  doctrine 
must  be  manifest  enough  to  any  man  who  knows  his  own 
heart,  or  who  listens  to  the  tumult  of  wickedness  which  arises 
up  from  all  the  dark  places  of  the  earth.  Sin  is  a  dreadful,  posi- 
tive, malignant  thing.  What  the  world  in  its  worst  part  needs 
is  not  to  be  developed,  but  to  be  destroyed.  Any  other  talk 
about  it  is  shallow  and  mischievous  folly." 

The  last  two  citations  preceding  might  seem  to  leave  the 
preacher  involved  in  hopeless  self-contradiction.  I  have  no 
care  to  mediate  between  them ;  let  them  quarrel  if  they  will. 
But  of  course  the  latter  is  the  true  expression  of  Mr.  Brooks's 
final  thought.  The  Faneuil  Hall  discourse  has  the  air  of  an 
extemporary  utterance,  but  at  any  rate  the  newspaper  report 
has  never  received  the  formal  authorization  of  the  preacher. 
Now,  it  is  of  course  at  once  a  serious  deduction  from  the 
total  net  good  influence  of  a  preacher  that  you  have  to  defend 
him  elaborately  from  the  appearance  of  teaching  false  doc- 
trine. And  no  relief  is  it  to  one's  regret  to  consider  that 
the  most  of  those  who  will  regard  the  defense  as  unnecessary 
will  also  regard  it  as  misleading;  for  with  such  persons  the 
apparently  false  doctrine  of  Mr.  Brooks  will  have  the  prac- 
tical effect  of  doctrine  really  false,  since  they,  understanding 
it  in  its  apparent  sense,  will  accept  it  as  in  that  sense  true. 
'      The  whole  spirit  of  Mr.  Brooks's  teaching  forbids  us  to 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS  103 

suspect  that  he  lightly  plays  with  expression,  like  a  man 
having  no  fixed  beliefs  of  his  own,  and  willing  to  let  himself 
be  taken  differently  by  one  hearer  or  reader  and  another, 
as  each  may  choose  to  take  him.  He  is  a  serious  and  earnest 
soul,  with  the  highest  ideal  of  truth  and  manliness.  In 
short,  he  is  perfectly  genuine. 

And  we  thus  come  upon  what  is  most  admirable  of  all  in 
his  style,  that  is,  exquisite  genuineness.  His  own  description 
of  what  style  should  be  is  an  unconscious  likeness  taken 
from  himself.  In  his  "  Lectures  on  Preaching  "  he  says  that 
style  should  be  "  so  simple  and  flexible  an  organ  that  through 
it  the  moving  and  changing  thought  can  utter  itself  freely." 
This  is  exactly  true  of  Mr,  Brooks's  style.  The  consequence 
is,  that  whenever  Mr.  Brooks's  thought  rises,  his  style  rises 
with  it,  and  when  his  thought  sinks,  his  style  sinks  with  it. 
His  style,  in  short,  is  constantly  just  equal  to  his  thought,  j 
This  is  meant  as  almost  the  highest  praise ;  but  it  allows  one  | 
still  to  admit  that  sometimes  Mr.  Brooks's  style  is  very ' 
faulty.  The  chief  fault  of  his  style  is  the  fault  of  its  chief 
virtue.  Its  chief  virtue  lies  in  its  being  simple,  straight- 
forward, easy,  unaffected,  natural;  its  chief  fault  is  its  tend- 
ency to  become  negligent,  negligent  to  the  verge,  or  beyond  | 
it,  of  downright  slovenliness.  This,  however,  without  losing  » 
its  constant  character  of  genuineness;  for  the  expression  is 
negligent  generally  when  there  was  negligence  in  the 
thought.  If  Mr.  Brooks  has,  and  occasionally  he  does  have, 
a  rather  vague  sentimentalism  of  view  to  express,  his  ex- 
pression sympathizes  and  becomes  unsatisfactory  accord- 
ingly. For  instance,  in  his  sermon  on  "  Standing  before 
God"  ("Twenty  Sermons"),  he  begins  by  saying:  "The 
life  which  we  are  living  now  is  more  aware  than  we  know 
of  the  life  which  is  to  come;  "  a  statement,  of  course,  tan- 
tamount to  laying  it  down  that  we  know  more  than  we  know 
that  we  know  of  the  life  beyond  life.  The  first  page  or  two 
following  of  the  discourse  agrees  in  character  well  with 
this  opening  sentence.  And  the  whole  introduction  scarcely 
introduces  the  sermon. 


104 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


Not  unfrequently  Mr.  Brooks  multiplies  his  relative 
clauses  to  a  singular  degree  of  perplexity.  In  his  sermon 
on  "  The  Mystery  of  Light,"  he  says : 

"  Now  and  then  in  those  first  chapters  of  the  Gospels  He 
[Jesus]  says  some  deep  word  or  does  some  unexpected  action 
which  seems  to  startle  them  [the  disciples]  and  brings  a  puzzled 
question  which  is  like  the  first  drop  before  the  tempest  of  puzzled 
questions  concerning  Christ  which  has  come  since  and  which 
is  still  raging  around  us ;  but  generally  in  those  earliest  days 
they  have  very  few  questions  to  ask;  they  seem  to  understand 
Him  easily." 

u-  One  feels  like  punning  horribly  and  pronouncing  such  a 
sentence  "  bewhiched."  Here,  as  usual,  the  negligent  style 
coincides  with  negligent  thought.  For  that  early  familiarity 
which  Mr.  Brooks  supposes,  on  the  disciples'  part,  that 
absence  of  wondering  awe,  in  their  intercourse  with  Jesus, 
as  contrasted  with  their  later  behavior  toward  him,  appears 
to  be  a  mere  figment  of  fancy,  when  you  recall,  for  instance, 
Peter's  abashed  exclamation  to  Jesus  uttered  before  he  was 
properly  a  disciple,  a  "  follower,"  at  all :  "  Depart  from  me, 
for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  O  Lord." 
To  say  that  Mr.  Brooks  does  not  always  master  his  pro- 

<  nouns  completely  is  only  to  say  that  his  style  stops  short  of 
perfection.  Certainly  there  would  have  been  added  pun- 
gency in  the  pungent  sentence  following  had  the  true  refer- 
ence of  the  "  it "  in  it  been  more  instantly  and  more  unmis- 
takably apparent :  "  I  cannot  know  —  perhaps  you  do  not 
know  yourself  —  how  much  there  may  be  in  your  heart 
which  is  so  bound  up  with  old  sin  that  you  do  not  want  it 
destroyed  completely."  Macaulay  would  not  have  scrupled 
to  use  his  noun  over  again  and  say:  "that  you  do  not  want 
to  have  that  old  sin  destroyed  completely."  (I  remember 
one  place  in  which  Macaulay  repeats  a  substantive,  and  that 
a  proper  name,  no  less  than  four  times  within  the  bounds 
of  a  very  short  sentence  —  just  to  avoid  a  slight  ambiguity 
that  would  have  resulted  from  the  substitution  of  pronouns.) 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 


105 


Of  careless,  as  broadly  distinguished  from  careful,  repeti- 
tions of  words  in  a  sentence,  Mr.  Brooks  furnishes  too  many 
examples.  If  he  had  been  in  the  habit  —  and  every  writer, 
but  especially  every  writer  for  the  public  ear,  should  be  in 
the  habit  —  of  hearing  (imaginatively)  his  sentences  in 
process  of  flowing  from  his  pen,  he  could  hardly  have  suf- 
fered himself  to  write  for  example  thus :  "  More  than  all  of 
these,  we  who  are  preaching  in  such  days  as  these  need  to 
understand  these  methods,"  etc. 

One  feels  like  thus  referring  such  a  point  to  the  ear. 
Still,  Mr.  Brooks's  ear  itself  may  be  at  fault,  and  thus  per- 
haps is  to  be  accounted  for  a  certain  lack  of  rhythm,  of  har-  1 
mony  "as  it  were  of  prose  numbers,  in  his  style.  For  that 
consummate  grace  of  the  orator's  rhetoric  this  great  preacher 
does  not  command.  A  nice  ear  in  him  would  alone,  even 
without  a  nice  literary  conscience  to  enforce  reference  for 
verification,  have  prevented  his  making  the  strange  trans- 
formation he  does  in  one  place  of  a  striking  poetical  quota- 
tion introduced  by  him.     Coleridge's  fine  lines: 

Yet  haply  there  will  come  a  weary  day, 

When  overtasked  at  length 
Both  Love  and  Hope  beneath  the  load  give  way. 

Then  with  a  statue's  smile,  a  statue's  strength, 
Stands  the  mute  sister,  Patience,  nothing  loth, 
And,  both  supporting,  does  the  work  of  both  — 

are    set    running    narrowly    down    Mr.    Brooks's    page,    as 
follows : 

"  There  will  come  a  weary  day 

When   overtaxed   at   length, 
Both  hope  and  love  beneath 

The  weight  give  way. 
Then  with  a  statue's  smile, 

A  statue's  strength, 
Patience,    nothing   loth, 

And  uncomplaining,  does 
The  work  of  both." 


io6  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

* 

Do  I  seem  to  be  applying  a  literary  standard  to  what  is 
homiletical  rather  than  literary?  I  acknowledge  the  exist- 
ence here  of  a  valid  distinction.  But  I  insist  that  there  is  a 
true  ethical,  and  even  religious,  teaching  force  in  what  I 
have  elsewhere  called  "  strict  literary  conscience,"  applied 
to  such  things  as  are  now  pointed  out.  And  this  series  of 
criticisms  has  a  faithful  and  serious  aim  to  help  make  the 
prevalent  practice  of  the  pulpit,  even  in  subordinate  things, 
better  and  better.     Is  not  the  aim  worthy? 

Negligence  not  verbal  and  not  literary  is  exemplified, 
when,  on  page  17,  "  Sermons  Preached  in  English  Churches," 
Mr.  Brooks  attributes  to  "  a  young  man  "  the  question,  really 
asked  by  quite  another  person  than  the  one  the  preacher 
must  have  been  imagining,  as  also  in  a  quite  different 
spirit:  "  Lord,  which  is  the  great  commandment?  "  It  seems 
also  a  freedom  hardly  compatible  with  reverence,  reverence 
at  the  moment  effectively  working  in  the  preacher's  heart, 
for  Mr.  Brooks  to  say  boldly  even  concerning  the  "  young 
man  "  of  whom  he  was  mistakenly  thinking : 

"  The  man  saw  a  new  vision  of  himself,  a  vision  of  a  life  filled 
with  a  passionate  love  of  the  Holy  One,  and  so  he  went  back 
determined  not  to  rest  until  he  had  attained  all  holiness." 

What  warrant,  outside  of  his  own  creative  imagination, 
could  Mr.  Brooks  adduce  for  making  such  a  statement?  The 
man  who  asked  Jesus  the  question  actually  quoted  by  Mr. 
Brooks  did  so  "  tempting  him  " ;  and  of  the  man  who  asked 
Jesus,  "What  shall  I  do  that  I  may  inherit  eternal  life?" 
and  whom,  as  the  touching  record  reads,  Jesus  beholding 
"  loved,"  the  final  word  given  is  that  he  "  went  away  sor- 
rowful for  he  was  one  that  had  great  possessions." 

It  is  a  strange  inadvertence,  once  again,  for  Mr.  Brooks 
to  take  as  his  text,  "  Jesus  said  unto  him,  '  Thou  shalt  love 
the  Lord  thy  God  .  .  .  with  all  thy  mind,'"  Matt, 
xxii  :37,  and  set  out  by  saying  that  this  is  an  injunction 
addressed  by  Christ  "  to  his  disciples  " —  the  fact,  of  course, 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 


107 


being  that  the  words  form  part  of  a  reply  made  by  Christ 
to  "  a  lawyer  "  "  tempting  him." 

Less  pardonable  seems  it,  when,  treating  the  text,  "  The 
Spirit  said.  Behold,  three  men  seek  thee,"  Mr.  Brooks  makes 
the  remark,  as  if  quite  in  parallel  with  his  text  for  idea  of 
Divine  authority  involved :  "  The  artist  dreams  his  dream, 
and  as  he  thinks  upon  the  vision,  the  Spirit  says,  Behold 
the  marble  seeks  thee."  Does  Mr.  Brooks  seriously  justify 
such  a  mode  of  speaking?  Does  he  really  think  that  the 
Scripture  text  with  which  he  was  dealing  is  a  mere 
Orientalism,  not  intended  by  God  to  convey  to  men  the  idea 
of  any  Divine  inspiration  for  Peter  other  than  that  which 
visits  equally  the  artist  when  the  artist  feels  prompted  to 
find  a  statue  in  a  block  of  marble?  He  must  know  well 
that  the  turn  of  expression  he  employs  is  adapted  to  insinu- 
ate that  thought.  But  if  that  thought  is  true,  what,  logic- 
ally, becomes  of  the  authority  which  Mr.  Brooks  undoubt- 
edly acknowledges  in  the  Bible?  These  questions,  it  is  Mr. 
Brooks  himself,  and  not  his  loyal  critic,  that  raises. 

If  now  we  should  note  that  Mr.  Brooks  says  "richen" 
(for  "enrich"),  that  he  coins  for  himself  the  noun  "world- 
full,"  we  should  nearly  have  exhausted  the  list  of  approaches 
to  affectation  in  vocabulary  that  could  be  charged  upon  him, 
so  nobly  and  simply  pure  is  he  in  his  diction.  "  Pled  "  for 
"pleaded"  is,  perhaps,  to  be  reckoned  in  addition  here;  that 
form,  in  a  scholar  so  well-bred,  can  hardly  be  an  inad- 
vertence. That  he  should  quote  Tennyson,  "  For  the  indi- 
vidual withers  and  the  race  [instead  of  "  world "]  is  more 
and  more " —  that  he  should  speak  of  Montaigne's  sitting 
"  in  his  library  at  Paris,"  when,  as  everybody  knows,  the 
old  French  essayist's  historic  library  was  (and  I  suppose 
still  is)  at  Montaigne,  in  Gascony  —  must  be  chargeable  to 
treacherous  memory  in  the  preacher. 

But  the  largeness,  the  large-heartedness,  of  this  messenger  ■ 
of  the  truth,  seems  to  rebuke  all  petty  fault-finding.     To  be 
sure,  Mr.  Brooks  is  large  enough,  and  large-hearted  enough, 
not  to  resent,  nay,  to  welcome,  all  helps  to  perfection  in 


I08  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

himself,  even  more,  all  helps,  supplied  out  of  his  own  short- 
comings, to  perfection  in  others.  No  one  can  read  his 
"  Lectures  on  Preaching  "  without  feeling  this.  I  now  name 
that  one  by  eminence  of  his  books,  which  is  on  the  whole 
the  best  expression  of  Mr.  Brooks's  moral  and  intellectual 
character.  I  said  that  to  read  Mr.  Brooks  was  like  breath- 
ing mountain  air.  To  read  his  sermons  is  like  that  in  one 
particular  not  hitherto  indicated.  The  atmosphere  of  his 
sermons,  besides  being  pure  and  tonic,  is  somewhat  difficult 
to  breathe,  being,  as  it  were,  sublimated  and  over-rare.  Not 
all  lungs  are  easily  equal  to  it.  What  I  mean  is,  that  appli- 
cation to  the  everyday  needs  of  everyday  people  is  com- 
paratively wanting. 

The  following  quotation  will  illustrate  this  remark  of 
mine.  I  venture  to  assume  that  it  really  is  a  sentence  of 
Bishop  Brooks's,  although  I  am  not  able  to  refer  it  to  the 
place  where  it  occurs  in  his  writings.  It  met  my  eye 
attributed  to  him  in  a  newspaper.  It  is  self-verified  as  his, 
both  by  its  style  of  expression  and  by  its  peculiar  quality 
of  thought: 

"  Lesser  things  will  drop  out  as  the  hand  closes  upon  the 
larger  duty  or  the  greater  blessing,  just  as  the  hand  that  reaches 
out  to  grasp  the  great  strong  oak  lets  go  its  hold  on  the  blade 
of  grass  it  had  gathered." 

Now  such  a  comparison  as  that  is  evidently  the  product 
of  closet  study  and  not  of  contact  with  life.  Who  ever 
reached  out  a  hand  to  "  grasp "  a  "  great  strong  oak  ? " 
Could  a  "  great  strong  oak  "  be  "  grasped  "  by  any  hand  ? 
And  a  babe  in  age  it  must  be  that  could  have  "  gathered  "  a 
"  blade  of  grass,"  to  hold  it.  The  comparison  could  not 
come  home  to  any  one's  actual  experience.  Is  it  mere 
whimsey  to  imagine  that  had  Bishop  Brooks  married,  "  life 
in  a  new  rhythm,"  such  as  a  rich  nature  like  his  might  have 
lived  in  that  changed  state,  would  have  gone  far  toward 
enabling  him  to  escape  that  certain  clinging  celibate  quality, 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 


109 


if  I  may  venture  so  to  speak,  which  I  seem  to  feel  affecting 
almost  all  his  productions? 

Without  intending  or  desiring  to  do  so,  Mr.  Brooks  ad- 
dresses himself  to  the  few  rather  than  to  the  many.  It  is  a 
kind  of  spiritual  elixir  instead  of  common  respirable  air  that 
he  provides  for  his  reader  or  his  hearer  to  breathe.  This 
is  less  true  of  his  lectures  on  preaching  than  it  is  of  his 
preaching.  His  lectures  on  preaching  form  a  volume  as 
replete  with  practical  wisdom  as  it  is  instinct  with  noble 
inspiration.  I  wish  they  could  be  universally  read  by  min- 
isters. No  minister  could  read  them  without  being  helped 
by  them  —  helped  intellectually,  helped  morally,  helped 
spiritually.  I  rejoice  in  such  a  book.  I  believe  in  such  a 
minister  as  Mr.  Brooks  therein  sets  before  his  reader  in 
ideal. 

And  such  a  minister  as  he  describes,  one  feels  that  Mr. 
Brooks  must,  himself,  in  good  measure,  be,  or  he  could 
never  so  have  framed  his  description.  The  ideal  minister 
will,  according  to  Mr.  Brooks,  seek  to  lead  each  soul  into 
"  entire  obedience  to  God."  He  will  say  to  every  one, 
"  The  meeting  of  your  will  with  the  will  of  God,  whatever 
it  may  bring,  is  the  purpose  of  all  discipline."  "  Obedient 
love !  Loving  obedience !  That  is  what  binds  the  soul  of 
the  less  to  the  soul  of  the  greater  everywhere.  I  give 
myself  to  the  Eternal  Christ,  and  in  His  eternity  I  find  my 
own.  In  His  service  I  am  bound  to  Him."  Such  quota- 
tions fairly  represent  the  spirit  of  Mr.  Brooks's  preaching. 
Largeness,  "  tolerance,"  charity,  freedom,  are  great  ideas 
with  him ;  but  a  man  obedient,  not  indeed  to  "  law,"  but  to  a 
personal  "  Lord,"  this,  and  not  a  man  "  full  of  unrestrained 
will,"  is  the  true  ideal  man  whom  this  preacher's  whole 
strife  seeks  to  realize.  Heady  self-will,  superiority  to 
Christ's  commands  as  judged  not  useful,  finds  no  encourage- 
ment with  Mr.  Brooks.  He  knows  nothing- of  any  trans- 
cendental sonship  to  God  that  releases  from  obligation,  or 
from  necessity,  to  obey.  He  trains  no  disciple  to  forget 
that  even  Jesus,  himself,  though  He  was  a  son,  yet  learned 


no  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

obedience.  Mr.  Brooks  warns  young  preachers  against  that 
spirit  in  rehgion  which  "  disowning  doctrine  and  depreciat- 
ing law  "  "  asserts  that  rehgion  belongs  to  feeling,  and  that 
there  is  no  truth  but  love."  He  says :  "  The  hard  theology 
is  bad.  The  soft  theology  is  worse.  You  must  count  your 
work  unsatisfactory,  unless  you  waken  men's  brains  and 
stir  their  consciences.  Let  them  see  clearly  that  you  value 
no  feeling  that  is  not  the  child  of  truth  and  the  father  of 
duty."  "  Those  who  honestly  own  for  Master  Jesus  Christ," 
is  Mr.  Brooks's  short,  comprehensive  description  of  Chris- 
tians. 

"  Will-dedication,"  an  expression  of  Mr.  Brooks's,  and 
"  unrestrained  will,"  an  expression  of  Mr.  Beecher's,  each 
answering  to  an  idea  in  human  character  approved  by  its 
respective  author,  will  give  the  contrast  in  tone  and  spirit 
between  the  two  preachers.  Now  a  preacher  may  make 
loss  of  many  particular  points  of  truth  in  his  teaching,  but 
if  he  teaches  Christ  as  a  personal  Master  whom  it  is  the 
whole  of  religion  to  obey,  then  the  chief  point  of  truth  is 
safe  in  his  hands.  Mr.  Brooks's  example  stands  here  in  a 
contrast,  for  which  we  may  be  grateful,  with  the  example, 
once  overwhelmingly  strong  in  influence,  of  Mr.  Beecher. 

I  feel  bound  now,  finally,  to  explain  that  the  high  praise 
of  Mr.  Brooks's  work,  which,  on  the  whole,  I  have  here 
been  gratefully  glad  to  pronounce,  must  be  understood  to 
apply  only  to  such  work  of  his  as  he  himself  has  decided  to 
be  considerate  enough  for  appearance  in  authorized  form  of 
publication.  Many  of  the  newspaper  reports  of  his  sermons 
present  him  at  serious  disadvantage.  There  must,  one  would 
say,  be  a  wide  gulf  of  contrast,  in  Mr.  Brooks's  case,  be- 
tween his  best  and  his  worst.  A  certain  forlorn  comfort 
may  be  gleaned  by  the  average  minister  from  knowing  that 
one  who  can  preach  so  well  as  does  Mr.  Brooks  in  his  au- 
thorized works,  can  also  preach  so  ill,  as  does  Mr.  Brooks 
sometimes  in  the  newspapers. 

I  have  said  nothing  of  that  part  of  Mr.  Brooks's  pulpit 
eloquence  which  consists  in  delivery.     And  little  really  needs 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS  1 1 1 

to  be  said.  The  hearer  has  a  man  before  him  in  the  pulpit 
whose  mere  physical  force  might  enable  him  to  discharge 
his  speech  at  his  audience  with  the  resistless  energy  of  a 
catapult.  And  pretty  much  this  is  what  Mr.  Brooks  does. 
The  preacher,  from  the  very  first  word,  begins  his  sermon, 
usually  read  from  a  manuscript,  at  a  prodigious  rate  of 
speed  in  utterance.  The  words  hurry  out  as  if  the  weight 
of  the  Atlantic  were  on  the  reservoir  behind  them  to  give 
the  escaping  current  irresistible  head.  There  is  no  let-up, 
there  could  be  no  acceleration,  to  the  rush  of  the  torrent. 
You  feel  at  first  as  if  you  never  should  be  able  to  follow 
at  such  a  breakneck  pace.  But  you  soon  find  yourself  caught 
up  and  borne  forward,  as  it  were,  without  your  following, 
on  the  mighty  breast  of  the  onrushing  flood.  What  is  more, 
presently  you  enjoy  riding  so  fast.  There  is  a  kind  of  im- 
partation  and  transformation  of  personal  living  force,  by 
virtue  of  which  you  not  only  understand  everything  uttered, 
but  with  ease  understand  it,  more  swiftly  than  your  wont. 
The  novel  experience  is  delightful. 

Beyond  what  has  thus  been  described,  or  hinted,  there 
is  not  much  that  is  peculiar  or  extraordinary  in  Mr.  Brooks's 
delivery.  I  am  told  that  his  phenomenal  speed  in  speaking 
is  an  expedient  adopted  by  him  to  overcome  a  natural  tend- 
ency on  his  part  to  stammering.  He  speaks,  then,  as  fast 
as  he  can,  simply  because  if  he  should  speak  slower  he  could 
not  speak  at  all.  His  regular  hearers,  I  believe,  come  to 
like  his  exaggerated  rapidity  of  utterance  —  which  fact,  if 
it  is  a  fact,  may,  at  least,  encourage  every  minister  to  expect 
that  if  he  can  only  accumulate  undoubted  oratorical  virtues 
enough  to  be  for  these  enthusiastically  admired  and  loved, 
his  very  faults,  too,  in  that  case,  will  be  turned  from  faults 
into  virtues. 

I  feel,  in  dismissing  this  subject,  that,  what  with  defensive 
interpretation  first  to  be  made  on  Mr.  Brooks's  behalf,  and 
then  with  minor  faults  in  his  style  to  be  duly  pointed  out,  I 
have  failed  to  express,  proportionately,  the  sense  that  I  have 
of  the  extraordinary  merit  and  value  of  Mr.  Brooks's  works 


112 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


as  a  whole.  I  must  not  refrain  from  recording  my  own  per- 
sonal debt  to  this  preacher.  I  have  felt  his  spirit  as  a  noble 
contagion.  A  loftier  ideal,  more  consistently  sustained,  more 
persuasively  presented,  of  personal  character  in  Christ  than 
that  which  animates  the  preaching  of  Mr.  Brooks,  I  should 
not  know  where  in  any  uninspired  literature  to  look  with 
the  hope  of  finding.    It  follows  hard  after  Paul. 


V 

ALEXANDER  McLAREN 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

On  reviewing,  for  the  purpose  of  this  republication,  the 
criticism  of  sixteen  years  ago  devoted  to  Dr.  McLaren,*  I 
could  not  but  become  freshly  av^are  how  very  laudatory  it 
is.  Shall  I  now,  on  soberer,  more  mature  consideration, 
abate  something  from  the  praise  bestowed,  or  at  least  affect 
it  with  a  larger  amount  of  stricture?  I  can  conscientiously 
answer,  and  with  heartiness.  No.  I  can  go  further,  and  say 
that  the  praise  now  seems  to  me  less,  instead  of  more,  than 
was  deserved.  "  Than  is  deserved,"  I  should  perhaps  rather 
say.  For,  during  this  interval  of  sixteen  years.  Dr.  Mc- 
Laren has  gone  on,  until  now  he  is  seventy-eight  years  of 
age,  steadily  maintaining  not  only,  but  actually  advancing, 
both  the  quantity  and  the  quality  of  his  yearly  homiletic 
production,  and  thus  presenting  an  example  of  prosperous 
achievement  which  I  believe  to  be  unparalleled  in  the  history 
of  the  Christian  pulpit.  At  this  moment,  I  doubt  not  that 
a  poll  of  all  the  judges  in  the  world  qualified  to  pronounce  on 
such  a  point,  would  yield  a  unanimous  sentence  assigning 
to  Alexander  McLaren  a  place  not  second  to  that  of  any 
other  man  in  Christian  history  as  a  producer  of  sermons. 
As  a  "  producer  of  sermons,"  I  say  now  by  choice,  not  as  a 
"  preacher."  I  leave  out  of  account  at  this  moment,  the 
element  of  oral  delivery,  a  prime  element  in  preaching. 

•  Dr.  McLaren,  in  reply  to  a  question  from  the  present  writer  as  to 
what  spelling  he  preferred  of  his  name,  expressed  a  degree  of  indifference 
in  the  matter;  but.  in  point  of  his  own  habit,  the  autograph  letters  from 
him  received  at  different  times  by  me  show  the  signature  written  as  above, 
that  is,  "  McLaren,"  not  "  M'Laren,"  not  "  MacLaren,"  and  not  "  Mac- 
laren."  To  disregard  his  own  example  and  be  a  little  over-nice,  I  may  say 
that  in  his  autograph  signature  he  sets  a  dot  or  period  underneath  the  "  c  " 
—  of  course  to  indicate  the  abbreviated  character  of  the  patronymic  prefix 
as  thus  written. 

"5 


Il6  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

What  the  secret  is  of  the  phenomenon  thus  presented  I 
attempt  to  lay  bare  in  the  criticism  following.  In  one  word, 
it  lies  in  his  method  therein  described.  But  that  word,  as, 
left  unexplained,  it  might  be  understood,  would  be  a  very- 
superficial  account  of  the  matter.  Dr.  McLaren's  method 
lay  in  the  man  himself  who  evolved  the  method,  and  who 
pursued  it  faithfully.  It  is  about  equally  an  intellectual, 
and  a  moral,  triumph  that  Dr.  McLaren  has  achieved  —  has 
achieved,  and  is  achieving. 

I  count  it  among  the  true  privileges  of  my  experience  in 
England,  that  I  enjoyed  an  opportunity  of  personal  contact 
and  free  interchange  of  thought  with  this  illustrious  man. 
I  wish  it  were  proper  to  disclose  all  of  the  interesting  mem- 
orabilia of  his  conversation.  A  few  things  I  may  take  the 
liberty  of  reporting.  He  spoke  with  the  utmost  cordiality 
of  high  appreciation  concerning  Mr.  Spurgeon,  from  an  in- 
terview with  whom  I  was  at  the  moment  come.  He  con- 
firmed without  qualification  an  opinion  which  I  ventured  to 
express,  that  Mr.  Spurgeon  possessed  all  the  native  force  and 
aptitude  of  mind  needed  to  have  made  him  distinctly  a  scholar 
and  a  thinker,  instead  of  the  great  popular  voice  that  he  had 
chosen   chiefly   to   be. 

What  seems  to  me  now,  in  the  retrospect  of  the  years  since 
that  hour  of  mine  with  Dr.  McLaren,  not  a  little  singular,  is 
that  he  intimated  some  thought  of  giving  up  his  work  in 
Manchester  soon  after  returning  from  a  trip  then  about 
to  be  undertaken  by  him  to  Australia.  He  even  contem- 
plated the  possibility  of  his  coming  to  America,  asking  me, 
in  apparent  modest  unconsciousness  of  the  fame  that  already 
was  his  in  this  country,  whether  I  thought  that  some  pulpit 
might  be  open  to  him  among  us,  if  he  should  come.  I  could 
of  course  reassure  him  on  this  point,  and  I  did  so.  Subse- 
quently remembering  such  a  hint  from  him,  I  conceived  the 
idea  of  securing  for  the  University  of  Chicago  the  services 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 


117 


of  this  incomparable  man  as  University  preacher.  At  my 
urgent  suggestion,  the  President  wrote  proposing  the  idea 
to  him,  and,  as  the  President  had  previously  requested  me 
to  do,  I  myself  addressed  a  letter  to  Dr,  McLaren  on  the 
same  subject.  Alas,  I  had  not  considered  that  already  by 
that  time  some  seven  years  had  elapsed  since  Dr.  McLaren 
dropped  those  words  in  my  ear ;  and,  reminded  of  this  inter- 
val of  time,  I  was  not  surprised,  though  I  did  regret,  to 
receive  a  reply  from  him  disappointing  to  my  hopes  for  the 
University.  He  expressed  his  grateful  sense  of  the  honor 
done  him  in  the  overture,  as  also  a  just  appreciation  of  the 
great  opportunity  offered,  but  he  decided  that  upon  the  whole 
he  had  better  finish  the  work  of  his  life  where  he  had  wrought 
it  so  long,  and  remain  at  LInion  Chapel  in  Manchester  — 
which  accordingly  he  has  done,  to  the  joy  of  his  church 
and  congregation,  who  have  made  him  at  length  a  kind 
of  pastor  emeritus,  releasing  him  from  obligation  to  perform 
regular  service  as  their  minister. 

On  the  completion  of  the  fiftieth  year  of  his  ministry, 
Dr.  McLaren  was  given  a  "  Complimentary  Breakfast "  in 
London  to  celebrate  the  occasion.  What  was  then  said  to 
him,  or  about  him  in  his  presence,  though  very  interesting, 
is  perhaps  less  important  for  us  here  than  what  he  himself 
said  in  response.  I  quote  a  few  words  from  the  report 
of  his  remarks  given  in  the  London  "  Baptist  Magazine  " : 

"  I  dare  not  speak  about  attainments.  I  may  venture  to  speak 
about  aims,  especially  because  I  think  that  I  have  a  number  of 
my  younger  brethren  here  this  morning,  and  I  would  like  to  give 
a  last  dying  speech  and  confession  to  them.  I  began  my  minis- 
try, and,  thank  God,  I  have  been  able  to  keep  to  that  as  my  aim 
—  I  say  nothing  about  attainments  —  with  the  determination  of 
concentration  of  all  my  available  strength  on  the  work,  the 
proper  work  of  the  Christian  ministry,  the  pulpit;  and  I  believe 
that  the  secret  of  success  for  all  our  ministers  lies  very  largely 
in  the  simple  charm  of  concentrating  their  intellectual  force  on  the 


Ii8  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

erne  work  of  preaching.  I  have  tried,  and  I  am  thankful  to  Dr. 
/Angus  for  his  words  on  that  matter,  to  make  my  ministry  a  minis- 
/  try  of  exposition  of  scripture.  I  know  that  it  has  failed  in  many 
'  respects ;  but  I  will  say  that  I  have  endeavored  from  the  be- 
ginning to  the  end  to  make  that  a  characteristic  of  my  public 
work.  And  I  have  tried  to  preach  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  Jesus 
Christ  not  of  the  gospels  only,  but  the  Christ  of  the  gospels  and 
the  epistles.  He  is  the  same.  Dear  young  brethren,  I  believe  that 
the  one  thing  that  the  world  wants  is  the  redemption,  the  power  of 
that  gospel  on  the  individual  soul ;  and  that  men  know  they  want 
it.  Dr.  Johnson  once  said  in  his  'wise  way,  *  Nothing  odd  lasts,' 
and  I  believe  that,  too.  '  Nothing  odd  lasts ' ;  but  Christ  lasts, 
and  man's  sin  lasts,  and  man's  need  lasts,  and  we  have  got  to 
preach  Christ  and  him  crucified,  the  Savior  of  mankind.  And 
I  have  tried  to  preach  Christ  as  if  I  believed  in  him,  not  as  if  I 
had  hesitations  and  peradventures  and  limitations.  And  I  have 
tried  to  preach  him  as  if  I  lived  on  him ;  and  that  is  the  bottom 
of  it  all,  that  we  shall  ourselves  feed  on  the  truth  that  we 
proclaim  to  others.  So  if  my  words  can  reach  any  of  my  dear 
younger  brethren  this  morning  I  do  want  to  say:  Concentrate 
yourselves  on  the  work  of  your  ministry,  preach  the  Bible  and 
its  truth,  preach  Christ  the  Redeemer,  preach  him  with  all  your 
heart,  lift  up  your  voice,  lift  it  up  with  strength,  be  not  afraid. 
We  know  that  the  Son  of  God  has  come ;  and  he  has  given  us  an 
understanding  that  we  may  know  him  that  is  true,  even  in  his  Son 
Jesus  Christ.  Brethren,  depend  upon  it  that  if  these  be  the  themes 
and  that  be  the  spirit  of  our  ministry,  whether  they  will  bear,  or 
whether  they  will  forbear,  they  will  know  that  there  has  been 
a  prophet  among  them." 

Long  will  men  know,  after  Dr.  McLaren  has  "  put  ofif  this 
tabernacle  " —  in  which,  to  our  blessing,  may  he  many  years 
yet  continue  to  abide  ! —  that  there  has  been  indeed  a  prophet 
among  them;  for  the  great  library  of  sermons  that  he  will 
have  bequeathed  in  print  to  the  future,  will  make  that  result 
happily  sure. 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

\  Dr.  McLaren  is  eminently  a  preachers'  preacher.  By  " 
this  I  do  not  mean  —  as  in  saying  the  same  thing,  for  ex- 
ample, of  Dr.  Bushnell,  I  might  —  that  his  sermons  consti- 
tute a  mine  of  material  and  resource  from  which  preachers 
may  draw.  Dr.  McLaren  is  not  primarily,  as  Dr.  Bushnell 
primarily  was,  a  free,  original,  and  fructifying  thinker,  who 
happens  to  occupy  a  pulpit.  He  is  a  true  and  proper  preacher, 
and  not  a  thinker  half  misplaced.  But  he  is  a  preacher 
such  as  preachers  in  particular  appreciate  and  enjoy.  His  * 
singular  skill  in  homiletic  workmanship  is  a  marvel  and  an 
inspiration  to  them.  Seldom  has  a  more  cunning  crafts- 
man,  one  at  every  point  less  needing  to  be  ashamed,  wrought 
in  the  pulpit.  This,  preachers,  of  course,  are  especially 
qualified  to  feel,  and  this  it  is  which  makes  Dr.  McLaren 
peculiarly  a  preachers'  preacher.  Preachers  learn  method  Tl 
from  him,  if  they  do  not  from  him  so  much  derive  thought. 
\  Still,  Dr.  McLaren  is  in  a  very  high  degree  a  thoughtful  » 
preacher.  Of  thoughts  —  of  thoughts  rather  than  of  thought, 
if  one  may  make  such  a  paradoxical  distinction  —  any  chance 
sermon  of  Dr.  McLaren's  is  likely  to  be  full.  The  essential 
preacher  deals  in  thoughts,  while  the  essential  thinker  deals 
in  thought.  Dr.  Bushnell  was  an  essential  thinker,  but  Dr. 
McLaren  is  an  essential  preacher.  He  thinks  for  the  pulpit, 
as  Dr.  Bushnell  thought  for  the  closet.  Dr.  McLaren  has 
done  what  Dr.  Shedd  recommends  and  President  Robinson 
warns  against  — each  authority  speaking  therein  with  ex- 
cellent reason  —  he  has  "  cultivated  the  homiletic  habit." 
Save  for  an  extraordinarily  vital,  as  distinguished  from  a 
merely  mechanical,  quality  steadily  maintained  in  Dr.  Mc- 
Laren's discourse,  you  might  half  suspect  that  his  mind  must, 
through  long  exclusive  application  of  faculty  to  the  produc- 

119 


I20  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

ing  of  sermons,  have  become  in  a  sort  automatic  in  its 
homiletic  action;  such  is  the  inevitable,  unerring  precision 
with  vi^hich  it  works,  and  such,  within  certain  limits,  is  the 
flawless  perfection  of  its  results. 

Those  results  are  wonderfully  even  in  value  reckoned 
throughout  from  one  sermon  to  another.  The  average 
standard  is  high,  but  the  uniformity  with  which  the  standard 
is  constantly  maintained  —  that  is  the  thing  most  noteworthy, 
as  it  is  the  thing  most  characteristic,  and  the  most  nearly 
unique,  in  Dr.  McLaren's  production,  whether  considered 
in  the  single  particular  sermon,  or  in  the  whole  continuous 
tenor  of  his  preaching.  I  cannot  say  that  an  impression  of 
facility  in  working  is  also  made,  or  at  least  that  such  an 
impression  is  made  in  any  degree  commensurate  with  the 
impression  made  of  a  certain  fatal  infallible  certitude  and 
exactness.  One  feels  a  little  —  let  us  even  admit,  a  little 
too  much  —  the  strain  of  intention  on  the  part  of  the 
preacher.  There  is  cost  to  him  involved  in  the  value  to  us. 
But  what  a  fault  —  if  a  fault!  The  very  rarest  of  excesses 
in  the  very  rarest  of  virtues;  the  virtue,  namely,  of  good, 
honest,  hard  work.  Would  that  what  exceeds  here  in  Dr. 
McLaren  could  be  judiciously  distributed  to  the  rest  of  us ! 

What  I  have  pronounced  the  chief  peculiarity  (constitut- 
ing, at  the  same  time,  a  distinguishing  excellence)  in  Dr. 
McLaren's  pulpit  oratory  as  submitted  in  print  —  I  mean 
the  sustained  and  uniform  high  average  of  quality  it  shows 
—  is  due  in  great  part  to  his  method.  His  method  is  there- 
fore  preeminently  worthy   of   study. 

Of  course,  I  cannot  now  wish  to  be  understood  that  mere 
method,  apart  from  that  virtue  in  the  man  —  virtue  mental 
and  moral  both  —  which  first  produced  the  method,  and  since 
has  steadily  kept  the  method  at  work  —  I  cannot  mean  that 
this  alone  constitutes  the  secret  of  Dr.  McLaren's  remark- 
able achievement.  But  Dr.  McLaren's  individual  original 
gift  is  a  thing  incommunicable,  while  happily  his  method  of 
working  is  not.  This  latter  may  be  found  out,  and  then  so 
stated  in  words  that  whosoever  will  may  learn  it  and  put  it 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN  121 

in  practice.  Whosoever  will;  but  will  is  a  great  matter 
here.  It  is  something  more  than  bare  willingness.  Willing- 
ness is  negative;  will  is  positive.  Willingness  is  passive; 
will  is  active.  Willingness  raises  no  obstacles;  will  over- 
comes all  obstacles.     Will,  in  short,  will. 

What,  then,  is  the  master  method  according  to  which  Dr. 
McLaren,  in  producing  his  sermons,  proceeds? 

The  first  element  of  it,  logically  first,  and  first  in  impor- 
tance, is  a  certain  moral,  issuing  in  a  corresponding  mental, 
habit  —  a  habit  of  submission,  on  the  preacher's  part,  sin- 
cere and  utter  submission,  involving  the  whole  man,  to  the 
absolute  and  ultimate  authority  of  the  Word  of  God  as 
contained  in  the  Bible,  and  therefore  as  contained  in  the 
text  chosen  for  any  given  particular  occasion.  Dr.  Mc- 
Laren thus  begins  by  approaching  his  text  in  the  spirit  of  a 
learner.  He  does  not  bring  with  him  a  thought  or  a  doc- 
trine purveyed  from  some  quarter  outside  of  the  Bible, 
or  perchance  laboriously  evolved  from  his  own  inner  con- 
sciousness, which  is  now  to  be  somehow  ingeniously  in- 
jected into  his  text,  in  order  to  be  ingeniously  thence  derived 
again  —  all  with  homiletic  sleight-of-hand,  wonderful,  rather] 
than  edifying,  to  hearers.  Quite  in  contrast  with  such  a  ' 
procedure,  Dr.  McLaren  sets  the  wholesome  example  of 
laying,  himself,  a  listening  ear  to  the  lively  oracles  of  God. 
He  will  not  speak  until  he  hears.  He  will  first  learn  and' 
afterward  teach. 

What  I  now  mean  may  best  be  shown  in  specific  example. 
Scarcely  choosing  at  all  —  for  Dr.  McLaren's  habit  seems  to 
exclude  exception  —  I  light  upon  this ;  it  is  the  beginning  of  a 
sermon  entitled  "  God's  True  Treasure  in  Man."  The  text 
is  a  double  one : 

"  The  Lord's  portion  is  his  people ;  Jacob  is  the  lot  of  his 
inheritance." —  Deut.  xxxii  :g. 

"Jesus  Christ  (who)  gave  himself  for  us,  that  he  might  re- 
deem us  from  all  iniquity,  and  purify  unto  himself  a  peculiar 
people." — Titus  ii :  14. 

"  In  my  last  sermon  I  dealt  with  the  thought  that  man's  true 


A  <^ 


122  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

treasure  is  in  God.  My  text  then  was :  '  The  Lord  is  the  portion 
of  my  inheritance;  Thou  maintainest  my  lot,'  and  the  following 
words.  You  observe  the  correspondence  between  these  words 
and  those  of  my  first  text :  *  The  Lord's  portion  is  his  people ; 
Jacob  is  the  lot  of  his  inheritance.'  The  correspondence  in  the 
original  is  not  quite  so  marked  as  it  is  in  our  Authorized  Version, 
but  still  the  idea  in  the  two  passages  is  the  same. 

"  You  may  remember  that  I  said  then  that  persons  could  pos- 
sess persons  only  by  love,  sympathy  and  communion.  From  that 
it  follows  that  the  possession  must  be  mutual ;  or,  in  other  words, 
that  only  he  can  say  *  Thou  art  mine '  who  can  say  I  am  thine.' 
And  so,  to  possess  God  and  to  be  possessed  by  God  are  but  two 
ways  of  putting  the  same  fact.  The  Lord  is  the  portion  of  His 
people '  and  *  The  Lord's  portion  is  His  people '  are  the  same 
truth  in  a  double  form. 

"  Then  my  second  text  clearly  quotes  the  well-known  utter- 
ance that  lies  at  the  foundation  of  the  national  life  of  Israel : 
'  Ye  shall  be  unto  me  a  peculiar  treasure  above  all  people,'  and 
claims  that  privilege,  like  all  Israel's  privileges,  for  the  Chris- 
tian Church.  In  like  manner  Peter  (i  Peter  ii  :9)  quotes  the 
same  words,  'a  peculiar  people,*  as  properly  applying  to  Chris- 
tians. I  need  scarcely  remind  you  that  *  peculiar '  here  is  used 
in  its  proper  original  sense  of  'belonging  to,'  or,  as  the  Revised 
Version  gives  it,  *  a  people  for  God's  own  possession,'  and  has 
no  trace  of  the  modern  signification  of  *  singular.'  Similarly, 
we  find  Paul,  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians,  giving  both  sides 
of  the  idea  of  the  inheritance,  in  intentional  juxtaposition,  when 
he  speaks  (i:i4)  of  the  'earnest  of  our  inheritance  until  the 
redemption  of  God's  own  possession.'  In  the  words  before  us 
we  have  the  same  idea ;  and  this  text  tells  us  besides,  how 
Christ,  the  revealer  of  God,  wins  men  for  Himself,  and  what 
manner  of  men  they  must  be  whom  He  counts  as  His. 

"Therefore  there  are,  as  I  take  it,  three  things  to  be  spoken 
about  now.  First,  God  has  a  special  ownership  in  some  people. 
Second,  God  owns  these  people  because  He  has  given  Himself 
to  them.  Third,  God  possesses,  and  is  possessed  by,  His  inher- 
itance, that  He  may  give  and  receive  services  of  love.  Or,  in 
briefer  words,  I  have  to  speak  about  this  wonderful  thought  of 
a  special  divine  ownership,  what  it  rests  upon,  and  what  it  in- 
volves." 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 


123 


What,  in  effect,  is  that  admirable  introduction?  What 
but  a  thoughtful,  reverent,  obedient  study  of  the  texts,  con- 
ducted with  a  view  to  learn  —  or  rather  to  put  hearers  in  the 
way  of  learning,  exactly  as  the  preacher  himself  had  pre- 
viously learned  —  the  true,  precise,  deep  meaning  of  these 
fragments  of  the  Word  of  God?  There  is  thought,  to  be 
sure,  but  it  is  submitted,  obedient  thought,  not  thought  set- 
ting out,  pioneer-like,  to  explore  a  path  of  its  own,  but 
thought  wholly  directed  to  directing  itself,  without  the 
shadow  of  turning,  in  the  right  line  of  God's  thought. 

How  much  more  fruitful  it  is  intellectually  (and  it  is 
more  fruitful  morally,  in  at  least  an  equal  degree)  thus  to 
make  one's  self  an  empty  vessel  to  be  filled  from  God's  Word, 
than  it  is  to  empty  a  vessel  found  in  God's  Word  to  fill  it 
from  one's  self,  this,  the  volumes  of  Dr.  McLaren's  sermons 
impressively  show.  A  text  of  Scripture  used  as  Dr.  Mc- 
Laren uses  his  texts  no  more  hampers  and  embarrasses 
preaching,  than  attachment  to  the  ground  hampers  and  hin- 
ders the  flight  of  a  kite  in  the  air.  The  attachment  to  the 
ground  is  a  necessary  condition  to  the  kite  of  its  rising  and 
staying  aloft.  So  the  text,  to  every  preacher  who  will  sub- 
mit to  be  bound  by  it,  becomes  a  condition  of  stimulated, 
directed,  and  unexhausted  productiveness.  The  case  is  one 
in  which  service  is  liberty.  You  are  free  in  proportion  as 
you  are  obedient.  Dr.  McLaren's  example  teaches  the  intel- 
lectual, not  less  than  the  moral,  advantage  to  the  preacher  of 
vigilant,  unbribable  fidelity  to  his  text. 

It  may  be  useful  to  point  out,  in  passing,  that  Dr.  Mc- 
Laren's title  \ov  the  sermon  just  quoted  from,  "  God's  True 
Treasure  in  Man,"  is  not  ideally  felicitous.  It  involves  an 
ambiguity.  It  quite  as  naturally  seems  to  announce  that  the 
preacher  will  undertake  to  show  what  it  is  in  man  that  con- 
stitutes God's  true  treasure,  as  it  does  that  the  preacher  will 
undertake  to  show  that  man  constitutes  God's  true  treasure. 
"  God's  True  Treasure  Found  in  Man,"  is  a  form  of  expres- 
sion that  would  go  far  toward  removing  the  undesirable 
ambiguity.     It  will  not,  by  the  way,  be  mere  captiousness  to 


^ 


124 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


express  some  surprise  that  Dr.  McLaren  allowed  himself  to 
quote  the  inexact  rendering  of  the  "authorized"  version: 
"  Ye  shall  be  unto  me  a  peculiar  treasure  above  all  people" 
without  correcting  the  last  word  to  "peoples." 

The  second  feature  of  Dr.  McLaren's  habitual  method  is 
a  logical,  inseparable  sequel  of  the  first.  As  he  loyally  sub- 
mits himself,  mind  and  heart,  to  God's  teaching  in  the  Scrip- 
ture to  be  preached  from,  so  he  actively  exerts  himself,  mind  j/ 
and  heart,  to  know  exactly  what  that  teaching  is.  He  never 
indolently  or  carelessly  assumes  that  the  apparent  meaning 
is  the  real  meaning  of  the  language.  He  goes  to  the  original 
Hebrew  or  Greek  of  the  passage  in  the  best  existing  recen- 
sion of  text,  and,  in  the  light  of  independent  investigation, 
corrected  by  comparison  of  the  most  competent  exegetical 
authorities,  decides  conscientiously  what  God  meant  in  these 
words  to  say.  This  same  care  is  observable  almost  omni- 
present throughout  Dr.  McLaren's  discourse.  H  he  cites 
Scripture,  even  incidentally,  in  the  progress  of  a  sermon, 
you  may  count  it  in  the  highest  degree  probable  that  his 
citation  will  be  made  in  the  true,  and  not  in  the  merely 
obvious,  sense  of  that  Scripture.  There  is,  I  should  be  in- 
clined to  conjecture,  in  Dr.  McLaren's  preaching  —  let  the  ^ 
estimate  be  made  proportionately  to  the  whole  volume  of 
preaching  in  each  case  presented  to  the  public  —  a  greater 
amount  of  sound  exegesis  than  would  be  found  in  the  preach- 
ing of  any  other  preacher  whatever.  There  have  been 
famous  preachers  —  President  Dwight,  Dr.  N.  W.  Taylor, 
Saurin  in  his  day,  were  such  —  whose  course  of  preaching 
constituted  a  sort  of  body  of  divinity.  A  body  of  exegesis 
rather,  Dr.  McLaren's  preaching  would  be  found  to  supply  — 
applied  exegesis,  the  very  ideal  of  legitimate  preaching. 
Generally,  in  fact  almost  invariably,  Dr.  McLaren  preaches 
from  short  texts,  but  he  is,  in  the  best  sense  of  the  adjective, 
an  expository  preacher.  I  doubt  if  ever  any  preacher  has 
more  rarely  used  what  I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  calling 
"  homiletic  license  "  in  the  handling  of  Scripture.  The  re- 
sult is  that  it  would  be  as  safe  to  consult  Dr.  McLaren,  in  a 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN  125 

sermon  of  his,  for  the  just  interpretation  of  a  Scripture 
cited,  as  it  would  be  to  consult  for  the  same  purpose  almost 
any  other  man  in  a  commentary.  This  is  as  it  should  be. 
Dr.  McLaren  here  too  is  an  example  and  a  model  to  be  most 
heartily  commended  to  preachers. 

A  third  feature  of  Dr.  McLaren's  method  is  the  exercise 
of  great  care  on  his  part  to  cast  the  teaching  of  his  text 
into  the  best  possible  fresh  mold  of  expression  exactly 
answering  to  his  own  individual  conception  of  what  that 
teaching  is.  His  effort  here  aims  not  at  being  ingenious,  but 
at  being  just  —  not  at  modifying  the  meaning  of  his  text  into 
something  other  than  itself,  something  more  serviceable  for 
his  own  immediate  purpose  (which  shall  at  the  same  time, 
of  course,  be  useful  and  true) ;  not  at  this,  but  at  making 
his  fresh  form  of  statement  square  exquisitely  with  the 
ascertained  exact  sense  of  his  text. 

An  example  or  two  of  what  I  now  mean.  Dr.  McLaren 
is  treating  the  text,  "  And  every  man  that  hath  this  hope  in 
him,  purifieth  himself  even  as  He  is  pure."  "  Put  into  its 
general  form,  the  thought,"  he  says,  "is  just  this:  If  you 
expect,  and  expecting,  hope  to  be  like  Jesus  Christ  yonder, 
you  will  be  trying  your  best  to  be  like  Him  here."  (Here 
again,  by  the  way,  the  title  of  the  sermon  is  open  to  crit- 
icism. Dr.  McLaren  says  justly :  "  It  is  not  the  mere  puri- 
fying influence  of  hope  that  is  talked  about,  but  it  is  the 
specific  influence  of  this  one  hope,  the  hope  of  ultimate  as- 
similation to  Christ  leading  to  strenuous  efforts,  each  a 
partial  resemblance  of  Him,  here  and  now."  And  yet  he 
entitles  his  sermon,  "  The  Purifying  Influence  of  Hope." 
"  The  Hope  of  Christlikeness  a  Motive  to  Self-Purifying," 
would  more  exactly  express  the  idea  of  the  sermon.) 

A  second  example.  The  text  now  is :  "  Blessed  are 
they  that  do  His  commandments,  that  they  may  have  right 
to  the  tree  of  life,  and  may  enter  in  through  the  gates  into 
the  city."  Having  instructively  corrected  the  foregoing 
form  of  his  text  in  accordance  with  the  Revised  Version,  he 
says: 


126  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

"  I  wish  to  look  with  you  at  the  three  things  that  come  plainly 
out  of  these  words.  First,  that  principle  that  if  men  are  clean  it 
is  because  they  are  cleansed ;  *  Blessed  are  they  that  wash  their 
robes.'  Secondly,  It  is  the  cleansed  who  have  unrestrained  ac- 
cess to  the  source  of  life.  And  lastly,  It  is  the  cleansed  that 
pass  into  the  society  of  the  city." 

In  the  last  foregoing  example  Dr.  McLaren,  it  will  be 
observed,  has  blended  two  things  in  one,  namely,  the  restat- 
ing in  his  own  words  of  the  teaching  of  his  text,  and  the 
"  partition  "  of  his  sermon ;  for  he  immediately  adds :  "  Now 
let  me  deal  with  these  three  things,"  which  accordingly  he 
at  once  proceeds  to  do. 

Labor  like  that  which  I  have  thus  exhibited  Dr.  Mc- 
Laren as  exemplifying  —  labor  both  of  thought  and  of  ex- 
pression, on  the  preacher's  part  —  is  of  the  highest  practical 
value  in  two  different  ways;  ways  different,  but  reciprocally 
related  to  each  other.  In  the  first  place,  the  labor  reacts 
upon  the  preacher  himself  to  make  him  thorough  and  faith- 
ful in  rightly  understanding  his  text;  and,  in  the  second 
place,  it  enables  him  effectively  to  convey  his  result  to  the 
mind  of  his  hearer.  I  cannot  state  this  point  too  strongly. 
There  is  no  mental  exercise  whatever  more  profitable  to  a 
public  oral  teacher  than  exercise  in  framing  several  accu- 
rately equivalent  alternative  forms  of  expression  for  a  given 
thought.  The  profit  of  this  exercise  is  carried  to  its  height 
when  the  thought  is  one  supplied  from  a  source  (like  the 
Bible)  the  authority  of  which  is  accepted  as  ultimate,  and 
so  supplied,  too,  in  a  first  form  of  expression  accepted  as 
infallibly  true  to  the  thought.  Never  was  made  by  preacher 
mistake  more  sterilizing  to  his  mind  —  to  say  nothing  of 
evil  effect  on  his  conscience  —  than  the  mistake  of  regarding 
the  use  of  the  text  in  general  as  a  mere  form  or  convention 
of  the  pulpit,  and  thus  of  treating  a  given  text  in  particular 
as  a  mere  bit  of  quotation,  a  motto,  more  or  less  fit,  prefixed 
to  his  sermon. 

The  somewhat'  extended  extract  first  made  from  Dr.  Mc- 
Laren,   which    I    called    his    "  introduction "    to    a    certain 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 


127 


sermon,  consisted  really  of  two  parts,  the  first  of  which 
only  is  the  introduction  proper.  The  reader  is  invited  to 
look  back  at  it.  The  proper  introduction  ends  with  the  end 
of  the  third  paragraph.  With  the  beginning  of  the  fourth 
paragraph,  "  Therefore  there  are,"  begins  what  technically, 
in  the  language  of  some  writers  on  rhetoric,  would  be 
called  the  "  partition."  In  this  fourth  paragraph  the 
preacher  "  partitions,"  or  divides  into  parts,  his  discourse. 
The  parts  or  divisions  are  not  so  much  made  by  the  preacher 
as  happily  found  by  him  already  existing  in  his  two  texts. 
The  dividing  heads  consist  severally  of  the  three  several 
ideas  which,  in  examining  his  two  texts  for  their  teaching, 
he  discovered  those  texts  to  contain.  Compare  the  three 
"  parts "  thus  found  and  put  into  statement  of  his  own  by 
the  preacher,  and  you  will  see  with  what  exactness,  in  this 
case,  too,  his  free  individual  formulas  of  expression  resume 
the  ideas  of  the  Scriptures  he  is  treating. 

It  deserves  to  be  noted  as  a  fourth  feature  of  Dr.  Mc- 
Laren's method  that,  in  immediate  sequel  to  his  introduc- 
tion, he  divides  or  partitions  his  discourse  after  the  manner 
just  shown.  Sometimes  he  partitions  twice,  that  is,  in  two 
different  forms  of  words  immediately  succeeding  one  an- 
other. He  does  this,  and  with  excellent  effect,  in  the  in- 
stance to  which  I  just  now  invited  the  reader  to  revert. 
The  duplicated  partition  cannot,  however,  be  called  a  pre- 
vailing, though  it  is  certainly  a  frequent,  practice  with  Dr. 
McLaren.  Indeed,  the  "  partition,"  that  is,  the  preliminary 
and  preparatory  announcement  of  the  leading  thoughts  of 
the  sermon  in  their  order,  is  not  always  made  even  once, 
with  altogether  the  formal  distinctness  exemplified  in  the 
last  instance  foregoing.  In  the  complementary  sermon  to 
the  one  from  which  that  instance  was  drawn,  namely,  in  the 
sermon  entitled,  "  Man's  True  Treasure  in  God,"  occurs  an 
example  of  obscurer  partition.  Here,  from  the  text.  Psalm 
xvi:5,  6,  "The  Lord  is  the  portion  of  mine  inheritance 
and  of  my  cup;  thou  maintainest  my  lot.  The  lines  are 
fallen  unto  me  in  pleasant  places ;  yea,  I  have  a  goodly  herit- 


128  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

age,"  the  preacher,  with  the  felicity  of  homiletic  genius 
guided  by  homiletic  conscience,  derives  these  three  ideas 
which  furnish  his  three  heads  of  discourse :  I.  "  All  true 
religion  has  its  very  heart  in  deliberately  choosing  God  as 
my  supreme  good " ;  II.  "  This  possession  is  as  sure  as 
God  can  make  it " ;  III.  "  He  who  thus  elects  to  find  his 
treasure  and  delight  in  God  is  satisfied  with  his  choice." 
(Again,  let  readers  studiously  note  how  well  these  three 
points  restate  the  substance  and  essence  of  the  text).  The 
heads  of  discourse  thus  brought  here  into  assemblage  are 
not,  by  the  preacher  himself,  announced  together  before- 
hand, in  an  express  partition  foreshadowing  the  order  of 
treatment  proposed.  They  are  reserved  by  him  to  be  an- 
nounced apart,  one  by  one,  as  each  successively  is  reached  in 
the  progress  of  the  sermon. 

The  better  rule  undoubtedly  is,  not  only  to  make  the  par- 
tition, but  to  make  it  sufficiently  formal  to  be  unmistakably 
distinct.  Dr.  McLaren  probably  admits  exceptions  for  the 
sake  of  avoiding  excessive  monotony;  which  fault,  how- 
ever, he  generally,  and  wisely,  avoids  by  varying  the  parti- 
tion in  form,  rather  than  by  either  making  it  obscure  or 
dispensing  with  it  altogether.  His  practice  seems  to  me 
very  happily  to  hit  the  golden  mean  between  negligence  and 
over-formality.  His  later  practice,  especially,  I  have  now 
in  mind,  for  I  seem  to  observe  that  he  tends  of  late  to  in- 
crease his  care  in  what  may  be  termed  the  technics  of  the 
sermon.  In  fact,  Dr.  McLaren  presents  a  remarkable  in- 
stance of  unrelaxed  fidelity  in  work  long  maintained  without 
break  in  the  face  of  that  twofold  temptation  to  ministers, 
so  apt  to  be  fatal,  namely,  the  lethargy  of  added  years  and 
the  satisfaction  of  desire  for  fame.  He  not  only  does  not 
deteriorate  in  the  quality  of  his  product  —  he  actually  im- 
proves. One  may  judge  him  very  fairly  in  comparison  with 
himself,  for  he  now  publishes  his  sermons  weekly  in  an 
English  Baptist  newspaper,  "  The  Freeman,"  which  is  cred- 
ibly said  promptly  to  have  doubled  its  subscription  list  after 
becoming  the  authorized  medium  of  such  publication. 


'ALEXANDER  McLAREN 


129 


It  is  a  testimony  to  Dr.  McLaren's  own  sense  of  the 
even  quality  of  his  work,  that  to  one  seeking  from  him  an 
expression  of  author's  preference  for  some  particular  ser- 
mon or  sermons  of  his,  he  had  nothing  to  say  except,  mod- 
estly, with  the  confidence  of  a  man  conscious  of  always 
doing  his  best,  that  he  was  willing  to  be  judged  by  what  he 
currently  did  from  week  to  week.  Such  confidence  and  such 
willingness  on  his  part  were  safe, —  as  safe  for  his  good 
name,  as  they  were  indicative  of  his  good  conscience.  If 
there  has  been,  since  his  earlier  volumes,  any  decline  in 
boldness  and  brilliancy  of  thought  and  of  style,  this  has  been 
fully  compensated  by  advance  in  sobriety,  solidity,  fidelity  to 
Scripture,  and  strict  adaptedness,  both  in  matter  and  in 
form,  to  the  needs  of  hearers.  The  present  writer,  by  the 
way,  were  he  asked  to  give  his  own  choice  of  best  among 
Dr.  McLaren's  sermons,  would  doubtfully  name  the  one 
entitled  "  Witnesses  of  the  Resurrection,"  as  perhaps  emi- 
nent above  all  the  rest  alike  for  value  in  doctrine  and  for 
eloquence  in  exposition.  In  this  sermon  the  preacher  does 
what  is  not  usual  with  him  —  he  heats  his  didactics  white- 
hot  in  the  fire  of  passion.  I  feel  almost  that  it  would  be  a 
truer  figure  to  say,  he  beats  his  didactics  white-hot  on  the 
anvil  of  thought.  For  Dr.  McLaren's  intensity  —  and  in- 
tensity is,  after  clearness,  perhaps  the  chief  note  of  his 
preaching,  whether  as  regards  the  composition  or  as  regards 
the  delivery  —  Dr.  McLaren's  intensity  is  an  intensity] 
rather  of  thought  than  of  feeling.  There  is  glow,  but  it  is/ 
not  so  much  of  the  heart  as  of  the  mind.  Even  the  sermon 
just  now  mentioned  on  the  resurrection  of  Jesus,  which 
has  almost  the  effect  of  passion,  seems  on  careful  discrimin- 
ation to  be  passionately  thought,  more  than  passionately  felt. 
But  I  am  forestalling  myself. 

In  connection  and  collation  with  the  sermon  named  above, 
might  be  read  and  pondered  to  advantage  the  sermon,  an 
Easter  sermon,  which  stands  first  in  the  collective  volume 
entitled  "  A  Year's  Ministry.  Second  Series."  That  vol- 
ume contains  also  another  sermon  so  signally,  so  eminently, 
I 


fi30 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


good  that  I  was  constrained  to  say,  "doubtfully,"  when  I 
named  "Witnesses  of  the  Resurrection"  as  perhaps  Dr. 
McLaren's  most  felicitous  single  achievement.  The  sermon 
I  now  allude  to  is  the  one  entitled,  "  The  Love  that  Calls  Us 
Sons."  In  this  sermon.  Dr.  McLaren  points  out,  with  fine  in- 
sight and  fidelity  of  scholarship,  that  the  word  "  that "  in 
the  text,  "  Behold  what  manner  of  love  the  Father  has  be- 
stowed on  us  that  we  should  be  called  sons  of  God  " —  ought 
to  be  replaced  with  "  in  order  that " —  since  the  Divine  love 
bestowed  is  bestowed  for  a  purpose,  the  purpose  of  making 
us  Sons  of  God.  (In  accordance  with  this  exegesis,  would 
the  title  of  the  sermon  be  more  nicely  exact,  if  it  should 
read,  "The  Love  That  Would  Call  Us  Sons?") 

For  the  sake  of  the  instructive  commentary  on  Scripture 
which  the  comparison  and  contrast  will  afford,  I  ask  readers 
to  set  the  following  extract  from  the  sermon  now  in  question, 
alongside  of  those  parallel  passages  in  Phillips  Brooks's  teach- 
ing, which  were  quoted  and  criticised  in  preceding  pages : 

"  And  there  is  a  deeper  and  solemner  word  still  in  the  context. 
John  thinks  that  men  (within  the  range  of  light  and  revelation, 
at  all  events)  are  divided  into  two  families  —  'the  children  of 
God  and  the  children  of  the  devil.'  There  are  two  families 
amongst  men. 

"  Thank  God !  the  prodigal  son,  in  his  rags  amongst  the  swine, 
and  lying  by  the  swine-troughs  in  his  filth  and  his  husks,  and  his 
fever,  is  a  son.  No  doubt  about  that.  He  has  these  three  ele- 
ments and  marks  of  sonship  that  no  man  ever  gets  rid  of:  he  is 
of  a  Divine  origin,  he  has  a  Divine  likeness  in  that  he  has  got 
mind,  and  will,  spirit,  and  he  is  the  object  of  a  Divine  love. 

"  The  doctrine  of  the  New  Testament  about  the  Fatherhood 
of  God  and  the  sonship  of  man  does  not  in  the  slightest  degree 
interfere  with  these  three  great  truths,  that  all  men,  tho  the 
features  of  the  common  humanity  may  be  almost  battered  out 
of  recognition  in  them,  are  all  children  of  God  because  He 
made  them;  that  they  are  children  of  God  because  still  there 
lives  in  them  something  of  the  likeness  of  the  creative  Father; 
and,  blessed  be  His  name!  that  they  are  all  children  of  God 
because  He  loves,  and  provides,  and  cares  for  everyone  of  them. 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN  131 

"All  that  is  blessedly  and  eternally  true,  but  it  is  also  true 
that  there  is  a  higher  relation  than  that  to  which  the  name 
'children  of  God'  is  more  accurately  given,  and  to  tvhich  in 
the  New  Testament  that  name  is  confined.  [Italics  here  are  the 
present  writer's.]  If  you  ask  what  that  relation  is,  let  me  quote 
to  you  three  passages  in  this  Epistle,  which  will  answer  the 
question : 

" '  Whoever  believeth  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ  is  born  of  God, 
that  is  the  first ;  *  Everyone  that  doeth  righteousness  is  born,  of 
God,'  that  is  the  second ;  '  Everyone  that  loveth  is  born  of  God,' 
that  is  the  third.  Or,  to  put  them  all  into  one  expression  which 
holds  them  all,  in  the  great  words  of  his  prologue  in  the  first 
chapter  of  John's  Gospel  you  find  this :  'To  as  many  as  re- 
ceived Him  to  them  gave  He  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God.' " 

There  is,  as  I  believe,  no  difiference  of  fundamental  doc- 
trine between  Bishop  Brooks  and  Dr.  McLaren,  but  Dr.  Mc- 
Laren, in  his  more  careful  way,  guards  better  the  largeness 
and  liberality  of  the  views  which  he  holds  in  common  with 
Bishop  Brooks.  He  expressly  says:  "There  are  two  fam- 
ilies among  men  " — "  the  children  of  God  and  the  children 
of  the  devil." 

Let  me  recapitulate.  Dr.  McLaren's  method  —  which  is 
the  master  key  to  the  secret  of  his  power  —  has  been  found 
to  include  these  four  elements:  i.  Unreserved  and  unqual- 
ified personal  submission,  on  the  preacher's  part,  of  mind 
and  of  heart  to  the  authority  of  the  Bible,  and  therefore 
of  the  particular  text;  2.  Exhaustive  study  of  the  text  to 
learn  its  true  meaning;  3.  Painstaking  care  to  cast  this  true 
meaning  into  a  new,  original  mold  of  expression,  and  not 
seldom  into  more  than  one  such;  4.  Announcement  of  the 
heads  or  divisions  under  which  the  discussion  will  be  con- 
ducted, or,  to  speak  in  the  technical  language  of  rhetoric, 
"  partition "  of  the  discourse  —  the  partition  being  some- 
times, for  the  sake  of  greater  distinctness,  duplicated  in  an 
alternative  form  of  expression. 

It  is  at  least  curious  that,  by  actual  count  of  forty-four 
sermons,  taken  at  random,  consecutively,  in  two  different 


^    / 


/ 


132 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


volumes  from  Dr.  McLaren,  it  turns  out  that  three  in  ever^ 
four  of  his  divisions  are  threefold.  I  mention  this  not  to 
imply  fault  on  the  preacher's  part.  If  the  tripartite  law  of 
division  were  even  more  prevalent  than  it  is,  it  would  not 
follow  that  the  preacher  should  be  blamed.  The  fair  ques- 
tion would  always  be,  Is  this  given  division  —  triple  or 
other,  as  the  case  might  be  —  a  good  division,  the  best 
division?  Other  things  being  equal,  the  threefold  division 
is  the  best  for  the  sermon.  If  lines  of  cleavage  can  be  found 
that  will  naturally  and  satisfactorily  lay  open  a  subject  in 
three  parts,  why  so  much  the  better;  let  the  preacher  seek 
no  further,  but  use  these  and  be  contented  —  even  though 
it  prove  that  nine-tenths,  instead  of  three-fourths,  of  his  dis- 
courses divide  themselves  thus  threefold.  What  needs  to  be 
guarded  against  is  the  natural  bent  of  the  mind  to  move  in 
habitual  grooves,  and  so  to  move  mechanically  instead  of 
rationally  and  logically.  There  is  no  absolute  safety  here 
but  in  keeping  the  mind  thoroughly  alive  and  alert.  This 
Dr.  McLaren  does  in  a  truly  remarkable  degree.  I  shall 
not  say  that  his  divisions  are  always  beyond  criticism,  but 
certainly  they  are  always  made  with  care,  and  often  with 
areful  felicity. 
I  am  at  a  loss  how  to  describe  what  I  wish  next  to  set 
down  as  a  fifth  element  in  Dr.  McLaren's  homiletic  method. 
I  might  evade  my  difficulty  by  resorting  to  figurative  lan- 
guage, and  saying  that  the  preacher  performs  a  kind  of  in- 
cubation on  his  text,  quickening  the  quick  that  was  dormant 
and  potential  within  it,  and  evolving  the  rich  and  varied 
life  involved.  The  result  often  surprises  as  much  as  it  de- 
lights you,  but  you  feel  that  it  is  a  perfectly  natural  result, 
that  it  is  merely  the  fruit  of  a  vital  process  carried  on,  the 
ofifspring  of  life  brought  into  life-giving  contact  with  life. 
You  say,  yes,  that  was  all  in  the  text;  why  had  no  one  ever 
found  it  there  before  ?  Ah,  it  is  only  to  the  sculptor,  such  by 
the  gift  of  God,  that  the  statue  imprisoned  from  creation 
in  the  quarry,  cries  out,  "  Here  I  am,  make  haste  to  deliver 
me ; "  and  it  is  only  to  the  preacher,  such  by  genius  and  by; 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN  133 

habit,  that  the  sermon  cries  out  of  the  text,  "  Here  I  am, 
come  take  me  and  give  me  to  the  world." 

That  which  I  have  spoken  of  under  the  parable  of  "  in-> 
cubation  "  is,  of  course,  simply  thought,  reflection.    Dr._Mc-_ 
Laren  thinks  on  his  text.     Success  here  is  largely  a  ques-i 
tion  of  mere  mental  patience.     Such  patience,  however,  can 
never  be  mere  mental  patience.     There  must  be  a  moral 
basis   to  mental   virtue   of   this   sort.    The   mind    can,   be- 
cause the  conscience  says  it  should,  and  because  the  will 
says  it  shall.     I  have  a  letter  from  Dr.  McLaren  written  to 
me  under  circumstances  that  make  it  not  improper  for  me 
thus  to  quote  from  it,  in  which  he  says: 

"  I  have  never  been  able  to  write  what  was  meant  to  be  said, 
and  content  myself  with  getting  subject  and  outline  into  my 
head  and  heart,  getting  these  down  on  paper  much  abbreviated, 
and  letting  the  moment  do  the  rest.  So  my  '  method  of  work ' 
is  very  much  to  sit  with  my  hands  in  my  pockets,  and  stare  at 
the  back  of  Meyer's  Commentaries,  which  happen  to  stand  op- 
posite to  me." 

Even  that  is  written  in  the  manner  of  a  man  instinct- 
ively and  habitually  impatient  of  the  pen.  Evidently  Dr. 
McLaren  has  schooled  himself  to  use,  as  his  first  and  chief 
organ  for  expression  of  thought,  not  the  pen  but  the  tongue. 
It  is  wonderful  that  he  has  nevertheless  been  able  to  exact''  , 
from  himself  so  much  genuine  thinking.  His  success  is  due,  / 
I  believe,  principally  to  his  making  his  text  a  fixed  central 
point  of  regard.  This  has  concentrated  his  mind,  brought 
his  mind  to  a  focus,  saved  it  from  dispersing  itself  over  too 
wide  a  surface.    Let  a  preacher  once  resolve  fixedly  that  he  J 

will  find  his  sermon,  all  of  it,  within  the  bounds  of  his  text, 
and  it  is  lettle  less  than  marvelous  how  fruitful  his  text  will 
prove  itself  to  be.    This  Dr.  McLaren  seems  to  have  done. 
Thus  is  accounted  for  the  style  of  introduction  prevailing  i 
throughout  his  sermons.     He  does  not  find  it  necessary  to  \ 
bring  his  introduction  from  far.    He  never  begins  remotely,  j 
by  saying,  for  instance :    "  There  hangs  on  one  of  the  walls  ^ 


// 


134  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

of  the  Louvre  in  Paris  a  picture,"  etc.,  etc. ;  "  It  is  a  remark 
of  Goethe  that,"  etc.,  etc.  Such  introductions  often  do  un- 
intended dishonor  to  the  Word  of  God  by  impHedly  saying, 
"The  bare  Scripture  is  uninteresting;  I  must  import  from 
elsewhere  an  interest  which  otherwise  my  sermon  would 
lack."  Dr.  McLaren  makes  his  text  itself  yield  him  his  in- 
troduction. His  introductions,  accordingly,  are  real  intro- 
ductions, varying  constantly  with  the  varied  themes  intro- 
duced. You  could  seldom  or  never  transfer  an  introduction 
of  his  from  one  sermon  to  another.  All  which  is  here  said 
only  to  bring  out  strongly  that  fifth  element  in  Dr.  McLaren's 
homiletic  method,  namely,  his  habit  of  long,  patient,  brood- 
ing thought  centered  on  his  text. 

We  may  now  regard  our  analysis  of  method  in  Dr.  Mc- 
Laren as  ended,  if  not  as  complete.  There  needs  that  some- 
thing be  said  of  the  native  gifts  and  the  acquired  accom- 
plishments of  the  man  who  puts  this  method  so  effectively  at 
work. 
/  Dr.  McLaren  is  a  singularly  sane  mind.  The  personal 
'  equation  in  him,  to  be  allowed  for  when  you  seek  to  ap- 
praise exactly  the  value  and  trustworthiness  of  his  intellect- 
ual results,  is  very  small.  He  views  things  in  a  dry  light. 
There  is  almost  no  refraction,  distortion,  exaggeration, 
disproportion,  to  his  view.  He  seldom  overstates  a  point. 
Such  moderation  gives  what  he  says  great  weight.  His 
hearer  or  reader  is  not  obliged  to  apply  an  ever-uncertain 
coefficient  of  reduction  and  correction  to  find  the  probable 
real  value  of  meaning  intended  to  be  conveyed.  This  law 
of  just  statement  it  would  be  strange  indeed  if  he  did  not 
now  and  then  violate.  He  does  so  when,  for  example,  he 
says :  "  Absolute  possession  of  others  is  only  possible  at  the 
price  of  absolute  surrender  to  them.  No  human  heart  ever 
gave  itself  away  unless  it  was  convinced  that  the  heart  to 
which  it  gave  itself  had  given  itself  to  it."  The  first  of  these 
two  sentences  shows  that  in  the  second  sentence  the  author's 
meaning  was,  "  convinced  "  in  accordance  zvith  fact.  Now 
\look  sharply  at  that  second  sentence,  and  you  will  observe 


\ 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 


135 


that  therein  the  preacher,  in  making  his  statement  over- 
strong,  has  really  destroyed  his  statement  altogether.  It 
is  a  curious  case  of  unconscious  suicide  in  expression,  due 
simply  to  the  author's  stretching  his  statement  beyond  what 
was  really  his  own  thought.  But  Dr.  McLaren's  thought 
itself  here  is  very  doubtfully  sound.  Or  are  there,  then,  no 
instances  of  absolute  self-surrender,  in  love  felt  to  be  un- 
requited? And  what  would  Dr.  McLaren  do  with  such 
cases  as  those  of  Napoleon's  soldiers,  who,  thousands  of 
them,  gave  themselves  joyfully  up,  even  to  death,  for  their 
emperor  without  the  smallest  return  of  reciprocal  affection 
(real  or  probably  even  imagined)   from  him  to  them? 

Intellect,  pure  intellect,  I  think,  prevails  in  Dr.  McLaren 
both  over  the  imaginative  and  over  the  emotional  in  him. 
The  comparative  defect  of  passion  keeps  him  steadily  a 
teacher,  or  at  least  prevents  him  from  being  distinctively  and  *j 
eminently  an  orator.  This,  and  the  comparative  defect  of 
imagination,  disqualify  him  for  producing  sermons  justly 
to  be  pronounced  great  —  disqualify  him  even  for  rising  to 
genuine  greatness,  majesty,  sublimity,  in  occasional  pas- 
sages. You  are  never,  with  Dr.  McLaren,  "  borne  like  a 
bubble  onward "  on  the  breast  of  an  ocean  of  eloquence. 
The  land  is  always  in  sight  on  either  side.  It  is  only  a 
river  on  which  you  are  embarked  —  a  strong  river,  a  deep 
river,  but  never  sea-like,  never  such  as  the  Amazon  at  its 
mouth. 

To  deny  to  Dr.  McLaren  a  great  gift  of  imagination  will 
seem  to  some  a  strange  error  of  judgment  on  the  part  of  the 
critic.  I  know  that  there  has  been  a  considerable  volume 
published  under  the  title,  "  Pictures  and  Emblems,"  com- 
posed exclusively  of  extracts  from  Dr.  McLaren's  sermons 
—  extracts  of  passages  in  which  the  preacher  had  illumin- 
ated his  preaching  with  illustration  by  description  or  by  com- 
parison. Vividly  brilliant  passages  often  they  are,  these  ex- 
tracts, almost  always  apt  to  their  legitimate  purpose  in  the 
sermon,  and  of  true  teaching  power.  They  show  their 
author  to  be  a  man  of  lively  fancy,  quick  to  discern  re- 


136  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

semblances  in  things,  and  to  be,  moreover,  a  master  in  the 
art  of  using  words.  Fine  gifts  I  thus  indicate,  which  Dr. 
McLaren  possesses  in  ample  measure,  and  nobly  has  he  used 
them.  But  such  gifts  are  not  quite  what  constitutes  high 
imagination  in  their  possessor.  If  I  have  seemed  here  to  be 
diminishing  the  merit  of  this  eminent  preacher,  to  do  so  has 
not  been  my  intention.  I  most  sincerely  think  that  Dr.  Mc- 
Laren is  better  than  a  great  preacher,  or  rather  —  for  great 
preacher  he  certainly  is,  a  very  great  preacher,  even  among 
the  few  greatest  —  better,  I  mean,  than  a  preacher  of  great 
sermons;  he  is  an  inexhaustibly  productive  preacher  of  good 
sermons,  useful  sermons,  sermons  that  make  a  powerful  im- 
pression, and  make  it  chiefly  not  for  the  preacher,  but  for 
the  truth  preached. 

These  critical  papers  are  planned  to  be  just,  and  to 
be  just  in  balancing  praise  with  blame.  I  feel  bound,  accord- 
ingly, to  point  out  that  in  instances,  rare  indeed,  Dr.  Mc- 
Laren's illustrations  fail  to  be  effective.    Examples: 

"  The  deepest  rest  and  the  highest  activity  coincide.  .  .  . 
The  wheel  that  goes  round  in  swiftest  rotation  seems  to  be  stand- 
ing  still." 

The  word  "  seems  "  here,  which  had  to  be  introduced,  shows 
that  the  illustration  only  seemed  to  illustrate.  Again  —  this 
time  from  a  sermon  on  the  Lord's  Supper: 

"  Altho  the  differences  are  infinite  in  regard  of  the  sacredness 
of  the  person  and  the  thing  to  be  remembered,  shall  I  shock  any 
of  you  if  I  say  that  I  know  no  difference  in  kind  between  the 
bread  and  the  wine  that  is  ["are"?]  for  a  memorial  of  Christ's 
dying  love,  and  the 'handkerchief  dipped  in  blood,  sent  from  the 
scaffold  by  a  dying  king,  with  the  one  message : — '  Remember ! ' 
'  Do  this  for  a  memorial  of  me ! ' " 

The  careful  guardian  clause  in  preface  hardly  saves  the  fore- 
going   illustration    from    producing    some    effect    of    that 
"  shock  "  which  is  deprecated. 
Once  more.    The  text  is,  "  Surely  every  man  walketh  in 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 


^Z7 


a  vain  show,"  which  the  exegete  preacher  finds  to  mean, 
"  Surely  every  man  walketh  in  a  shadow ; "  that  is,  as  a 
shadow.    The  preacher  asks : 

"  Did  you  ever  stand  upon  the  shore  on  some  day  of  that 
'  uncertain  weather,  when  gloom  and  glory  meet  together,'  and 
notice  how  swiftly  there  went,  racing  over  miles  of  billows,  a 
darkening  that  quenched  all  the  play  of  color  in  the  waves,  as 
if  all  suddenly  the  angel  of  the  waters  had  spread  his  broad 
wings  between  sun  and  sea,  and  then  how,  in  another  mo- 
ment, as  swiftly  it  flits  away,  and  with  a  burst  the  light  blazes 
out  again,  and  leagues  of  ocean  flash  into  green  and  violet  and 
blue.  So  fleeting,  so  utterly  perishable,  are  our  lives  for  all  their 
seeming  solid  permanency." 

Brilliant  description  that,  of  a  scene  and  a  movement  that 
had  been  looked  on  by  the  describer  with  a  poet's  eye.  You 
read  it  and  you  see  again  the  scudding  shadow  fleet  over  the 
sea  on  the  wings  of  the  wind  —  the  blackening  and  the 
brightening  of  the  waters  both  you  see.  You  see  it  all  but  too 
vividly.  You  are  dazzled  for  the  moment  from  seeing  any- 
thing else.  The  brilliancy  and  circumstance  of  the  descrip- 
tion prevail  over  the  purpose  which  the  description  was  in- 
troduced to  serve.  What  is  admirable  in  itself  becomes  the 
reverse  of  admirable  in  its  relation. 

But  enough  of  exception.  The  rule  is  that  Dr.  McLaren 
makes  his  fancy  as  faithful  a  servitress,  as  she  is  an  effica- 
cious, of  his  reason  and  his  will. 

It  has  already  been  made  sufficiently  clear  that  this  great 
preacher  has  not  failed  to  equip  himself  with  acquirements 
answering  to  the  gifts  with  which  a  bountiful  nature  had 
equipped  him.  His  culture  is  nearly  as  strong  a  mark  on  his 
sermons  as  is  his  homiletic  genius.  He  has  manifestly  been 
an  affectionate  student  of  poetry,  and  of  the  best  poetry.  In- 
woven with  the  texture  of  his  discourse,  not  simply  em- 
broidered upon  it,  are  frequent  flowers  of  verse  culled  with 
a  choice  hand  from  out  the  fairest  gardens  of  the  Muses. 
Spenser,    Shakespeare,   Milton   in  especial,   and   in  especial 


138  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

Wordsworth  and  Tennyson,  have  become  "  portion  and  par- 
cel "  of  his  intellectual  life.  He  furnishes  an  excellent  ex- 
ample of  the  purifying  and  elevating  influence  on  the  orator 
of  habitual  familiar  communion  with  the  poets.  The  con- 
ception, the  diction,  the  syntax,  are  each  and  all  of  them 
insensibly  thus  ennobled.  Insensibly,  I  say;  but  I  mean 
only  that  the  process  is  insensible  at  the  moment  to  the 
worker  of  the  process.  The  result  is  sensible  enough  to 
hearer  and  reader,  whether  or  not  these  concern  themselves 
to  trace  it  to  its  source.  The  influence  from  poets  of  which  I 
now  speak  is  especially  to  be  noted  in  certain  places  of  Dr. 
McLaren's  discourse,  in  which  there  is  no  outright  acknowl- 
edged quotation  of  the  poet's  words.  For  example,  contrast- 
ing "  the  region  where  dwells  the  divine  nature  "  and  "  the 
various  phases  of  the  fleeting  moments  which  we  call  past, 
present  and  future,"  he  says :  "  These  are  but  the  lower 
layer  of  clouds  which  drive  before  the  wind,  and  melt  from 
shape  to  shape."  How  evidently  both  conception  and  ex- 
pression here  are  molded  by  the  silent  influence  of  that 
magnificently  imaginative  description  in  Tennyson  of  the 
geologic  changes  going  forward  so  slowly  as  to  be  invisible 
about  us,  but  in  the  poet's  vision  seen  swift  and  fluent  like 
the  shifting  scenery  of  the  skies: 

The  hill  are  shadows,  and  they  flow 
From  form  to  form,  and  nothing  stands; 
They  melt  like  mist,  the  solid  lands, 

Like  clouds  they  shape  themselves  and  go. 

Likeness  to  Christ,  at  last  —  no  longer  blurred,  no  longer 
hidden  in  believers'  hearts  — "  shall  flame  in  their  fore- 
heads," Dr.  McLaren  says.  He  does  not  quote,  but  he  had, 
of  course,  more  or  less  consciously  in  mind,  Milton's  starry 
line, 

"  Flames  in  the  forehead  of  the  morning  sky." 

Still  another  example  is  found  where  Dr.  McLaren  says, 
"  All  things  take  a  soberer  coloring  to  the  eye  that  has  been 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN  139 

accustomed  to  look,  however  dimly,  upon  God."    Compare 
Wordsworth's 

"  The  clouds  that  gather  round  the  setting  sun 
Do  take  a  sober  coloring  from  an  eye 
That  hath  kept  watch  o'er  man's  mortality." 

One  of  Dr.  McLaren's  titles,  that  to  the  sermon  on  the 
text  containing  these  words,  "  Truth  shall  spring  out  of  the 
earth,  and  righteousness  shall  look  down  from  heaven,"  is  a 
poetically  quoted  line  of  poetry,  "  The  Bridal  of  the  Earth 
and  Sky,"  Mere  adjectives,  as  "  crimson-tipped,"  "  jewels 
five-words-long,"  or  even  not  so  long,  e.  g. :  "  solemn  troops 
and  sweet  societies,"  "  most  ancient  heavens,"  "  appareled 
in  celestial  light,"  "  visited  all  night  by  troops  of  stars," 
"  light  of  setting  suns,"  "  birds  of  tempest-loving  kind," 
"  birds  of  peace  sit  brooding  on  the  charmed  wave,"  "  a 
sunshine  in  a  shady  place."  Such  gatherings  from  the  poets, 
frequent,  but  not  over-frequent,  on  Dr.  McLaren's  page, 
have  their  charm  to  the  imagination.  They  seem  to 
heighten  the  value  of  the  setting  in  which  they  occur,  where 
also  sometimes  they  themselves,  in  turn,  seem  to  have  their 
value  heightened  —  such  is  the  unerring  taste  with  which 
the  citations  are  fitly  made.  Seldom  is  a  citation  of  Dr. 
McLaren's  other  than  true  to  the  text  of  his  original;  the 
last  two,  however,  of  the  foregoing  examples  offer  excep- 
tions. Milton  wrote  "  birds  of  calm,"  instead  of  "  birds  of 
peace,"  and  Spenser  sang  of  Una  that,  on  a  particular  occa- 
sion, she  made  "  a  sunshine  in  the  shady  place  "  where  she 
then  was,  . 

Dr.  McLaren's  English  is  fresh,  racy,  idiomatic,  as  well  \ 
as,  in  general,  correct,  tasteful,  and  scholarly.  As  in  duty 
bound,  so  to  do  one  person's  part  in  keeping  up  the  standard, 
I  note  again  a  few  exceptions.  "Diagnose"  (the  barbarous 
medical  term)  is  a  word  which  I  venture  to  "  prognose  "  will 
not  soon  be  admitted  to  good  literary  society  even  on  the 
strength  of  an  influential  introduction  like  Dr,  McLaren's, 


140  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

"  Without  knowing  what  a  big  thing  they  were  doing,"  reads 
strangely  out  of  place  in  this  author's  chaste  pages.  "  Durst," 
used  in  the  present  tense  for  "  dare  " ;  "  amongst "  the  whole 
of  you,"  for  "among  you  all";  the  tangle  of  as's  (and  the 
dreadful  correlation  of  "equally"  with  "as")  in  a  sentence 
declaring  that  Paul  looked  upon  the  "  miraculous  appearing 
[to  himself  on  the  way  to  Damascus]  of  Jesus  Christ  in  the 
heavens  as  being  equally  available  as  rooting  ground  for  his 
Christian  conviction  as  were,"  etc.  These  are  examples  of 
negligence  which,  because  such  negligence  is  so  rare  with 
Dr.  McLaren,  serve  only  to  set  off  by  contrast  the  astonish- 
ing correctness,  purity,  and  neatness  of  his  style. 

Astonishing,  I  thoughtfully  call  these  attributes  in  Dr. 
McLaren's  discourse;  for  it  must  be  remembered  that  the 
discourse  is,  as  composition,  extemporaneous:  unless,  indeed, 
the  preachers  own  testimony,  already  quoted,  concerning  his 
habits  in  preparation  for  the  pulpit,  be  construed  to  consist 
with  the  idea  that  though  he  does  not  write,  he  yet  in  pre- 
meditation composes,  as  Robert  Hall  did,  the  greater  part  of 
his  sermon.  But  even  in  that  case  the  result  achieved  is,  in 
the  respects  named,  nothing  less  than  extraordinary.  The 
present  writer  has,  in  one  instance,  had  the  opportunity  to 
compare  the  printed  form  with  the  form  previously  preached 
of  a  sermon  of  Dr.  McLaren's;  and  he  can  testify  that  the 
process  of  revision  for  the  press  leaves  the  sermon  as  de- 
livered from  the  pulpit  almost  entirely  unchanged.  Re- 
garded as  products  of  proper  extemporization.  Dr.  McLar- 
en's sermons  are,  in  the  aggregate,  for  logical  progress  of 
thought,  for  density  of  sententiousness,  for  freedom  from 
surplusage,  for  balance  of  judgment,  for  prevalent  good 
sense  and  good  taste,  for  precision  of  statement,  for  purity 
of  diction,  for  various  excellence  in  style  —  his  sermons  are, 
I  say,  for  these  virtues,  I  dare  not  afifirm  without  parallel, 
but  so  near  to  that  mark  that  I,  for  my  part,  if  a  parallel 
were  demanded,  should  have  to  remain  silent.  But  even 
such  ascription  does  not  make  of  Dr.  McLaren  a  rhetorician 
like  Dr.  Storrs,  or  an  orator  like  Mr.  Beecher. 


'ALEXANDER  McLAREN 


141 


Of  Dr.  McLaren's  manner  in  delivery,  little  requires  to 
be  said  beyond  this,  that,  as  might  be  looked  for  in  so 
thoroughly  genuine  a  man,  the  manner  admirably  answers  to 
the  matter.  It  makes  the  matter  very  effective.  One  thing 
it  lacks,  which  also  the  matter  itself  lacks,  and  that  is  the 
intermingling  of  tenderness  and  pathos.  What  Dr.  McLaren 
says  is  not  seldom  tenderly  thought,  but  it  somehow  fails 
to  be  tenderly  felt,  whether  in  the  writing  or  in  the  speak- 
ing. Dr.  McLaren  sincerely  mourns,  but  he  does  not  un- 
controllably weep,  over  Jerusalem.  One  wishes  at  times 
that  this  clear-headed,  true-hearted,  nay,  gentle-hearted  man 
could  remember.  Sunt  lachrymce  rcrum.  There  should  now 
and  again  be  tears  in  the  ink  with  which  the  preacher  writes, 
and  tears  in  the  tones  with  which  the  preacher  speaks.  But 
what  business  have  I,  in  estimating  Dr.  McLaren,  to  require 
the  thing  that  is  not?  Let  me  rather  give  myself  up  to  en- 
joying and  commending  the  still  more  precious  things  that 
are. 

On  the  point  of  Dr.  McLaren's  work  as  done  in  the  pul- 
pit, I  shall  not  perhaps  do  better  than  to  quote  from  myself 
what  I  lately  wrote,  descriptive  of  an  occasion  on  which  I 
heard  the  great  Manchester  preacher: 

"  More  thoroughly,  more  intensely  vital  discourse,  I  think 
I  have  never  heard  than  I  heard  last  Sunday  from  Dr.  Mc- 
Laren's lips.  The  speaker  himself,  in  the  act  of  speaking, 
seemed  to  tingle  to  his  very  finger's  tips  with  costly  electric 
vitality.  His  voice  was  pitched  sympathetically  in  a  high 
key,  a  key  in  fact  too  high;  the  tension  of  it  produced  the 
effect  of  having  grown  to  be  habitual.  At  first  it  was  slight- 
ly unpleasant  to  the  unaccustomed  hearer,  as  implying  la- 
borious strain  on  the  speaker's  part;  but  the  harmony  be- 
tween the  thought  and  the  utterance  soon  obliterated  the 
sense  of  this,  and  you  came  at  length  to  feel  that  such  ut- 
terance was  required  by  such  thought.  Intensity,  eagerness, 
unintermitted  insistence,  unrelaxing  grasp  of  his  hearer, 
mind  and  conscience  and  will  —  this  is  the  predominant  note 


y' 


142 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


of  Dr.  McLaren's  delivery.  His  voice  has  a  quality  in  it 
that  will  not  let  you  go,  and  even  his  fingers  curl  tensely  and 
prehensively,  as  if  to  seize  you  and  hold  you  fast.  It  might 
almost  be  said,  too,  that  like  Coleridge's  Mariner,  he  holds 
you  with  his  glittering  eye;  for  although  he  may  not  fairly 
look  at  you  so  much  as  once  in  the  whole  course  of  his  ser- 
mon, yet  his  eyes,  fixed  forward,  as  if  on  his  thought 
instead  of  on  his  audience,  '  gUtter,'  and  they  fascinate  you. 
This  is  from  the  very  start.  There  is  a  pause  after  the 
speaker  rises  before  he  actually  begins  to  speak ;  and  when 
he  does  begin  it  is  in  a  seer-like  manner,  and  with  a  far-for- 
ward-looking eye  which  makes  you  instinctively  think  of 
Pope's  line : 

'  Rapt  into  future  worlds  the  bard  began.' 

You  do  not  so  much  feel  yourself  personally  addressed  in 
the  sermon  as  admitted  to  hear  a  man  think  aloud  powerful- 
ly on  a  subject  on  which  you  are  perforce  deeply,  vitally 
concerned.  The  aspect  of  the  audience  is,  universally  and 
continuously,  well-nigh  as  eager  and  intent  as  that  of  the 
speaker.    The  silence  is  half  as  eloquent  as  the  sound." 

Taken  for  all  in  all  —  quantity  too  as  well  as  quality  be- 
ing admitted  to  affect  the  comparative  estimate  —  the  col- 
lective series  of  Dr.  McLaren's  printed  sermons  may,  I  think, 
safely  be  said  to  equal,  if  it  does  not  exceed,  in  present  prac- 
tical value  for  ministers,  any  single  similar  body  of  produc- 
tion existing  in  any  literature,  ancient  or  modern.  And  it 
gives  you  a  joyful  sense  of  added  wealth  in  prospect  to  con- 
sider that  the  unbroken,  though  ripe,  age  of  the  preacher, 
together  with  his  remarkable  habit  of  steadily  improving 
upon  himself,  seems  to  promise  us.  year  by  year,  for  yet 
many  and  many  a  year  to  come,  "  A  Year's  Ministry  " —  in 
volume  after  volume  so  named,  of  sermons  growing  more 
helpful  rather  than  less,  from  the  pen  —  or  shall  we  say 
tongue?—  of  Alexander  McLaren. 


VI 
JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

The  aim  at  independence  —  I  trust  not  at  eccentricity  — 
that  animated  the  author  both  in  conceiving  and  in  executing 
his  task  in  this  series  of  criticisms,  finds  in  the  one  example 
of  critical  treatment  now  about  to  be  furnished  its  sufficient 
illustration.  As  to  John  Henry  Newman,  in  the  face  of 
well-nigh  universal  convention  among  ostensible  critical  au- 
thorities, pronouncing  him  a  consummate  master  of  style, 
the  present  critic  thought  he  saw  reason,  thought  he  could 
show  reason,  for  not  according  to  that  eminent  writer 
such  unqualified  high  praise. 

It  may  interest  readers  who  know  what  truly  noble  English 
James  Martineau  could  write,  to  learn  that,  through  a  happy 
chance,  I  found  myself  supported  in  this  dissenting  estimate 
of  mine  by  the  concurrence,  partial  at  least,  of  that  great 
writer.  In  the  course  of  an  hour's  conversation  had  by  me 
with  Dr.  Martineau  at  his  house,  where  I  had  the  privilege 
of  calling,  at  his  own  invitation  (unsought,  but  of  course 
very  gladly  responded  to),  the  name  of  John  Henry  Newman, 
then  just  deceased,  came  up  between  us  by  Dr.  Martineau's 
mention  of  him,  which  gave  me  occasion  to  remark  inci- 
dentally that  in  my  opinion  F.  W.  Newman  had  the  command 
of  a  better  English  style  than  had  his  more  famous  brother, 
the  Cardinal;  to  which  Dr.  Martineau  assented  heartily, 
saying,  with  some  surprise  expressed  in  his  manner,  "  I 
am  glad  to  hear  you  say  that ;  I  think  so,  too  " —  thereupon 
producing  a  letter  just  received  by  him  from  the  surviving 
brother,  whence  it  appeared  that,  as  was  not  unnatural  in 
the  case  of  kindred  so  wide  apart  in  religious  views,  there 
J  145 


146  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

unhappily    existed    a    strained    relation    between    the    two 
brothers. 

I  may  add  that  the  present  criticism  of  Cardinal  Newman 
attracted  attention  enough  in  England  to  be  made  the  subject 
of  remark  in  a  London  periodical,  whose  editor  seemed  to 
be  left  in  a  suspense  of  surprise  at  the  unusual  tenor  of  it 
—  surprise  and  indetermination  both  at  once  —  for  he  cau- 
tiously refrained  from  either  concurring  or  dissenting. 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN 

The  place  of  Cardinal  Newman  among  recent  masters  in 
the  eloquence  of  the  pulpit,  is  peculiar  —  is,  in  fact,  unique. 
In  him  we  encounter  a  man  who,  besides  being  a  preacher  of 
illustrious  name,  presumptively  claims,  that  is,  claims  by 
wide  consent  of  imposing  opinion,  the  rank  of  a  permanent 
classic  —  a  permanent  classic  of  the  highest  order  —  in  Eng- 
lish literature.  This  state  of  the  case  with  the  present  sub- 
ject will  justify,  if  it  does  not  demand,  a  correspondingly 
differenced  course  of  critical  discussion. 

John  Henry  Newman,  during  one  prolonged  stadium  of  his 
career,  suffered  under  an  undeserved  adversity  of  public 
judgment  as  to  his  character  and  conduct.  But  this  wrong 
against  him  was  amply  righted  at  length,  perhaps  more,  even, 
than  amply  righted ;  and,  in  the  total  retrospect  of  his  life, 
he  must  be  pronounced  a  select  and  singular  favorite  of 
fame  and  of  fortune.  He  died  recently  in  an  odor  of  sanc- 
tity that  filled  the  English-speaking  world. 

For  a  quarter  of  a  century  before  his  death,  it  had  been 
the  habit  and  tradition  of  enlightened  critical  essayists  and 
of  the  higher  periodical  press  to  praise  his  style  as  the  final 
consummation  of  everything  noble  and  beautiful  in  expres- 
sion that  contemporary  English  literature  had  to  show;  and, 
when  at  last  his  death  made  it  seem  necessary  that  apprecia- 
tion should  pass  into  eulogy,  then  there  were  not  wanting 
those  who  would  have  it  that  John  Henry  Newman's  prose 
was,  upon  the  whole,  the  very  best  writing,  of  whatever  time, 
in  the  English  language. 

In  the  conscious  presence  of  such  a  universal  fondness, 
grown  a  fashion,  for  eulogizing,  to  criticise  calmly,  disin- 
terestedly, without  prepossession  on  the  one  hand,  and,  on 
the   other   hand,    equally    without    opposition   unjustly    ex- 

147 


148  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

aggerated  to  make  the  balance  just,  will  certainly  be  a  little 
difficult;  but  it  is  that,  precisely  that,  which  must  here  be 
attempted.  For  it  is  of  the  very  idea  of  really  profitable 
criticism  that  it  shall  be,  as  far  as  possible,  absolutely  unin- 
fluenced, either  on  the  one  side  or  on  the  other,  by  prescrip- 
tion or  by  convention,  and  shall  pronounce,  in  praise  or  in 
blame,  not  according  to  probable  public  expectation,  but 
only  according  to  the  perceived  and  perceivable  —  and  I  may 
properly  add,  the  demonstrable  —  reason  existing  in  the  par- 
ticular case  concerned. 

Cardinal  Newman  first  attracted  public  attention  as  a 
preacher.  His  later  fame  was  that  of  a  writer;  but  his  ser- 
mons still  constitute  a  very  important  part  of  his  published 
production.  These,  in  fact,  may  be  considered  to  have  at- 
tained a  distinction  rare  for  sermons,  that  of  challenging  for 
themselves  a  commanding  place  in  standard  English  litera- 
tureX  Exceptional  double  fame  like  this,  undeniably  New- 
"man's,  makes  it  fit  that  he,  though  only  by  virtue  of  being 
an  eminent  preacher  brought  within  the  view  of  the  present 
series  of  critical  papers,  should  yet,  by  exception,  be  treated 
here  primarily  as  a  literary  man. 

It  is  a  great  satisfaction  to  the  critic  constitutionally  de- 
sirous of  concurring  rather  than  of  differing,  to  be  able  to 
begin  by  according  at  once  to  this  eminent  writer,  and  ac- 
cording in  full  measure,  the  supreme  literary  virtue  of 
thorough-going  genuineness  in  style.  Newman's  style  is  the 
pure  and  perfect  mirror  of  the  man  himself.  To  the  critic- 
ally observant  reader,  it  is  a  matter  of  self-evidence  that  it 
reflects  the  writer's  thought,  his  feeling,  his  temper,  his 
character,  without  obscuration,  without  exaggeration,  with- 
out distortion.  His  style  itself  is,  in  a  sense,  Newman's  true 
autobiography. 

The  man  thus  revealed  in  Newman's  style  is  a  high,  clear, 
brave,  loyal,  strenuous,  intent,  unworldly  nature,  penetrated 
with  religion ;  but  withal  a  nature  narrow,  intense,  with  the 
intensity  proper  to  narrowness,  and  having  imagination  or 
fancy  in  such  ascendant  proportion  to  reason,  or  rather  in 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN  149 

such  a  sort,  as  to  constitute  it  a  virtual  flaw  in  the  sound- 
ness of  the  judging  mind.  "  In  such  a  sort,"  I  say,  and  the 
sort  I  mean  will  best  perhaps  be  suggested,  if  I  call  it  senti- 
mental. 

The  style  that  holds  a  faithful  mirror  up  to  such  a  nature 
must  necessarily  have  great  excellences,  but,  as  I  have  in- 
timated, the  capital  excellence  of  Newman's  style  consists 
in  its  consummate  fidelity  to  what  it  had  to  represent,  that 
is,  in  its  genuineness.  Of  course,  in  one  sense,  and  that  an 
important  sense,  every  style  is,  by  the  unescapable  necessity 
of  things,  doomed  to  represent  the  author  who  writes  in  it 
exactly  such  as  he  is.  It  may  be  an  afifected  style,  but,  if  so, 
it  only  shows  the  author  to  be  capable  of  affectation,  and 
not  superior  to  it;  it  may  be  a  showy  style,  but  then  it  ex- 
hibits the  author  truly,  as  one  willing  to  pass  for  all  that  he 
is,  and  perhaps  for  something  more;  it  may  be  an  involved 
style,  but  then  it  simply  reflects  the  encumbered  and  partly 
ineffectual  movement  of  the  author's  mind;  and  so  on, 
through  all  the  possible  vices  or  virtues  of  literary  expres- 
sion. 

Obviously,  it  is  not  in  this  sense  that  I  predicate  genuine- 
ness, that  is,  fidelity  in  expression  to  the  thing  to  be  ex- 
pressed, of  Newman's  style,  praising  it  as  a  literary  virtue 
of  the  supreme  order.  Genuineness  of  the  merely  inevitable 
sort  just  described  is  not  a  virtue  at  all;  it  is  a  fate.  But 
^ewman's  genuineness  in  style  is  not  a  fate;  it  is  a  virtue.  > 
It  springs  from  a  conscious,  a  resolute,  an  exercised  sin- 
cerity in  the  man.  This  man  will  say  nothing  that  he  does 
not  think,  or  feel,  or  fancy;  and  that  which  he  thinks,  or 
feels,  or  fancies,  he  will  not  say  otherwise  than  as  he  thinks, 
or  feels,  or  fancies  it.  There  is  no  strain  to  express  things 
not  really  present  to  the  writer  ready  for  expression;  and 
no  strain  to  have  things  present  merely  in  order  that  he  may 
have  somewhat  to  express.  The  only  effort  observable  is 
effort  to  express  truly  the  actual  current  content  of  the 
writer's  mind. ) 

Now  how  great,  how  singular,  a  virtue  of  style  such  gen- 


ISO 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


uineness  is  as  that  which  I  thus  attribute  to  Newman,  is  best 
to  be  appreciated  by  comparison  and  contrast  of  him  in  this 
respect  with   other  good  writers. 

John  Ruskin  is  one  of  the  most  genuine  of  writers.  He  is 
consciously,  and  intentionally,  he  is  strenuously,  genuine. 
Genuineness  is  one  of  his  chief  notes;  of  him  you  cannot 
say,  as  you  can  of  Newman,  that  it  is  his  chief.  There 
is  in  Ruskin  a  contention  of  other  aims  with  the  aim  to  be 
genuine,  which  sometimes  seriously  modifies  the  final  result. 
For  instance,  there  is  an  eagerness  in  him,  an  ambition,  a 
"  a  toil  and  endeavor,"  that  defeats  the  effect  of  repose- 
Newman's  perfect  singleness  of  aim  produces  a  harmony, 
a  reconciliation  and  rest  of  elements,  lacking  to  Ruskin. 
Take  an  example.  Ruskin  has  a  famous  characteristic  pas- 
sage of  imaginative  description,  on  the  whole  so  good  that  it 
may  be  pronounced  worthy  to  serve,  as  it  has  been  made  to 
serve,  the  purpose  of  text-book  exemplification  of  its  rhetor- 
ical kind, —  which  yet,  on  careful  scrutiny,  proves  to  con- 
tain things,  if  it  be  not  even  itself  a  thing,  hostile  to  the 
principle  of  genuineness  —  hostile,  that  is  to  say,  to  that 
very  master  principle  of  all  art,  literary  or  other,  of  which 
Ruskin  himself  was,  his  life  long,  the  indefatigable  tri- 
umphant sworn  champion.  The  passage  to  which  I  refer  is 
that  noble  one  in  which  the  writer  attempts  the  difficult 
double  feat  of  first  imagining,  and  then  fixing  in  words,  a 
vision,  as  of  the  bird's  eye,  sweeping  almost  at  once  over  a 
landscape  made  up  from  all  the  latitudes  of  Europe.  It  is 
vision,  be  it  remembered,  picture  to  the  eye,  that  the  attempt 
on  the  writer's  part  in  this  passage,  expressly  is  to  represent. 
Ruskin  says: 

"  We  do  not  enough  conceive  for  ourselves  that  variegated 
mosaic  of  the  world's  surface  which  a  bird  sees  in  its  migration, 
that  difference  between  the  district  of  the  gentian  and  of  the 
olive  which  the  stork  and  the  swallow  see  far  off,  as  they  lean 
upon  the  sirocco  wind.  Let  us,  for  a  moment,  try  to  raise  our- 
selves even  above  the  level  of  their  flight,  and  imagine  the 
Mediterranean  lying  beneath  us  like  an  irregular  lake,  and  all  its 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN 


151 


ancient  promontories  sleeping  in  the  sun ;  here  and  there  an  angry 
spot  of  thunder,  a  gray  stain  of  storms,  moving  upon  the  burning 
field ;  and  here  and  there  a  fixed  wreath  of  white  volcano  smoke, 
surrounded  by  its  circle  of  ashes ;  but  for  the  most  part  a  great 
peacefulness  of  light,  Syria  and  Greece,  Italy  and  Spain,  laid  like 
pieces  of  golden  pavement  into  the  sea-blue,  chased,  as  we  stoop 
nearer  to  them,  with  bossy  beaten-work  of  mountain  chains,  and 
glowing  softly  with  terraced  gardens,  and  flowers  heavy  with 
frankincense,  mixed  among  masses  of  laurel,  and  orange  and 
plumy  palm,  that  abate  with  their  gray-green  shadows  the  burn- 
ing of  the  marble  rocks,  and  of  the  ledges  of  porphyry  sloping 
under  lucent  sand." 

I  have  limited  myself  to  quoting  here  from  this  magnifi- 
cent piece  of  imaginative  description  only  so  much  as  will 
serve  the  present  purpose  of  illustration.  The  whole  pas- 
sage, truly  admirable  as  it  is,  might,  as  I  have  ventured  to 
intimate,  justly  be  found  subject  to  another  critical  objec- 
tion of  a  character  more  general  and  therefore  more  fatal; 
but  what  it  is  pertinent  now  to  point  out  is  this,  that,  amid 
the  somewhat  distracted  syntax  of  the  portion  following  the 
words,  "  but  for  the  most  part,"  we  have  exhibited  to  us 
"  Syria  and  Greece,  Italy  and  Spain,"  seen  so  far  under- 
neath one  that  the  "  mountain  chains  "  merely  "  chase  "  their 
surface,  yet  "  glowing  softly  with  terraced  gardens "  (un- 
der the  reduction  of  sight  commanded  from  aerial  altitude 
such  that  "  mountains "  were  "  chasing,"  what  efifect  of 
"  terracing  "  on  their  slopes  could  supposably  remain  to  the 
^y^?);  "glowing  softly"  also  "with  flowers  heavy  zvith 
frankincense."  Granted  (what,  to  say  the  least,  is  doubtful) 
that  "  frankincense,"  a  certain  gummy  vegetable  exudation 
yielding  perfume  zvhen  burned,  may  properly  be  used 
by  metonomy  for  odor  in  general,  we  still  have  here,  let 
it  be  noted,  a  property  appealing  to  the  sense  of 
smell  suddenly  and  disturbingly  intruded  into  an  as- 
semblage of  images  intended  exclusively  for  the  sense  of 
sight.  The  intrusion  violates  for  an  instant  the  harmony  of 
representation,    and    perfect    genuineness    produces    perfect 


152  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

harmony.  Of  course  I  know  it  may  be  answered  to  this  crit- 
ical objection  of  mine  against  Ruskin's  perfect  genuineness 
that  the  note,  "  heavy  with  frankincense,"  is  to  be  regarded 
in  its  place  simply  as  the  superfluous  overplay  of  an  excited 
imagination,  like  the  fine  expression,  "  as  they  lean  upon 
the  sirocco  wind."  The  important  difference  is  that  the 
latter  is  in  keeping,  as  the  former  is  not.  One  sees  the 
stork  and  the  swallow  "  leaning "  against  that  wind.  But 
in  truth  the  entire  passage  from  Ruskin,  of  which  my 
citation  is  only  a  small  part,  is  a  pretty  pure  exuberance 
of  the  imagination  in  the  text  to  which  it  belongs.  It  does 
not  really  serve  at  all  its  ostensible  purpose;  or,  if  at  all, 
then  certainly  not  so  well  as  a  brief  unrhetorical  statement 
of  the  alleged  contrast  between  South  and  North  would 
have  done.  In  short,  it  recalls  the  famous  remark  about  the 
famous  charge  at  Balaklava,  "  It  is  magnificent,  but  it  is 
not  war."  For  the  satisfaction  of  some  fair-minded  reader 
who  may  feel  that  I  have  pushed  my  criticism  of  the  fore- 
going passage  from  Ruskin  too  far,  I  think  I  shall  even  have 
to  push  it  now  a  little  farther.  "  Flowers  heavy  with  frank- 
incense." But,  as  already  pointed  out,  frankincense  is  not  an 
odor  at  all,  and  if  it  were,  it  is  not  an  odor  yielded  by  "  flow- 
ers." Further,  the  gum  frankincense  is  not  produced  any- 
where within  the  bounds  of  the  landscape  with  which  Ruskin 
here  is  dealing.  Yet  again,  from  the  altitude  supposed  for 
the  observer,  no  effect  of  odor  would  be  felt,  how  "  heavy  " 
soever  with  odor  the  "  flowers  "  yielding  it  might  be  con- 
ceived to  be.  Altogether,  the  description,  verbally  splendid 
as  it  is,  proves,  carefully  considered,  to  be  distinctly  flawed 
with  an  element  of  the  not-genuine. 

Now  Newman  has,  so  far  as  I  know,  no  passage  of  writing 
that  could  be  adduced  in  parallel  of  the  foregoing  passage 
from  Ruskin.  That  passage  is  an  obvious  tour  de  force, 
a  conscious  exploit,  on  Ruskin's  part.  In  such  experiments, 
in  such  superfluous  exercises  of  power,  Newman  never 
indulges.  I  do  not  say  that  he  could  accomplish  feats  like 
that,  if  he  should  see  fit  to  try.    His  taste  and  his  temper 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN 


153 


seem  to  incline  him  to  an  Attic  economy  of  display.  This  is 
a  part  of  his  peculiar  genuineness.  But  thus  much  might 
with  great  confidence  be  hazarded:  If  Newman  should 
attempt  a  flight  of  the  imagination  like  that  attempted  by 
Ruskin  in  the  passage  quoted  from  in  him,  there  would 
hardly  be  found  in  the  result  even  any  such  microscopic 
flaw  of  the  not-genuine  as  Ruskin  inadvertently  admitted 
into  his  description.  No  such  "  purple  patch  "  of  purely  im- 
aginative description  could  probably  be  found  in  the  whole 
volume  of  Newman's  production,  but  a  passage  of  realistic 
narrative  description  occurring  in  his  tale  entitled  "  Callista," 
may  be  set  in  contrast.  The  subject  is,  "  A  Visitation  " — 
that  is,  of  locusts.  There  will  be  found  in  it,  even  where 
he  brings  his  imagination  most  freely  into  play,  no  lapses 
from  the  truth  of  the  reality  described.    I  show  an  extract: 

"They  advanced,  host  after  host,  for  a  time  wafted  on  the 
air,  and  gradually  declining  to  the  earth,  while  fresh  broods  were 
carried  over  the  first,  and  neared  the  earth,  after  a  longer  flight, 
in  their  turn.  For  twelve  miles  did  they  extend  from  front  to 
rear,  and  their  whizzing  and  hissing  could  be  heard  for  six  miles 
on  every  side  of  them.  The  bright  sun,  though  hidden  by  them, 
illumined  their  bodies,  and  was  reflected  from  their  quivering 
wings;  and  as  they  heavily  fell  earthward  they  seemed  like  the 
innumerable  flakes  of  a  yellow-colored  snow.  And  like  snow 
did  they  descend,  a  living  carpet,  or  rather  pall,  upon  fields, 
crops,  gardens,  copses,  groves,  orchards,  vineyards,  olive  woods, 
orangeries,  palm  plantations,  and  the  deep  forests,  sparing  noth- 
ing within  their  reach,  and  where  there  was  nothing  to  devour, 
lying  helpless  in  drifts,  or  crawling  forward  obstinately,  as  they 
best  might,  with  the  hope  of  prey.  They  could  spare  their  hun- 
dred thousand  soldiers  twice  or  thrice  over,  and  not  miss  them ; 
their  masses  filled  the  bottoms  of  the  ravines  and  hollow  ways, 
impeding  the  traveller  as  he  rode  forward  on  his  journey,  and 
trampled  by  thousands  under  his  horse-hoofs.  In  vain  was  all 
this  overthrow  and  waste  by  the  roadside ;  in  vain  their  loss  in 
river,  pool,  and  watercourse.  The  poor  peasants  hastily  dug  pits 
and  trenches  as  their  enemy  came  on;  in  vain  they  filled  them 
from   the  wells   or   with   lighted   stubble.     Heavily  and   thickly 


154  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

did  the  locusts  fall :  they  were  lavish  of  their  lives ;  they  choked 
the  flame  and  the  v^rater,  which  destroyed  them  the  while,  and 
the  vast  living  hostile  armament  still  moved  on. 

"  They  moved  right  on  like  soldiers  in  their  ranks,  stopping 
at  nothing,  and  straggling  for  nothing:  they  carried  a  broad  fur- 
row or  wheal  all  across  the  country,  black  and  loathsome,  while 
it  was  as  green  and  smiling  on  each  side  of  them  and  in  front, 
as  it  had  been  before  they  came." 

No  rhetorician  is  Newman,  even  in  the  better  sense  of 
that  word.  In  those  moments,  rare  with  him,  when  he  con- 
descends to  seem  a  little  rhetorical,  he  will,  as  it  were, 
indifferently,  almost  negligently,  produce  the  sort  of  writing 
which  the  following  passage  exemplifies.  He  has  been 
describing  the  start  of  a  movement  in  the  direction  of  lib- 
eralism —  to  him  lamentable ;  he  thus  describes  the  sequel : 

"  Since  that  time,"  he  says,  "  Phaeton  has  got  into  the  chariot 
of  the  sun ;  we,  alas !  can  only  look  on  and  watch  him  down  the 
steep  of  heaven.  Meanwhile,  the  lands,  which  he  is  passing  over, 
suffer  from  his  driving." 

The  rhetoric  here  seems  a  matter  of  indifference  to  the 
writer;  but  far  from  indifferent  to  him  is  the  thing  that 
the  rhetoric  expresses.  That  genuine  feeling,  however,  pro- 
duced a  genuine  rhetoric. 

The  foregoing  is  from  the  "Apologia  pro  Vita  Sua,"  a 
work  of  Newman's  late  middle  life,  on  the  whole,  the  most 
interesting  and  the  best  of  his  writings.  This  autobiography, 
however,  it  may  be  remarked,  is  but  very  sparingly  illum- 
inated with  such  rhetorical  garnishes  as  that  which  I  have 
just  now  shown.  "  Garnish  "  indeed  that  is  not ;  but  only 
a  garnished  expression  of  the  thought  to  be  expressed.  The 
element  of  garnish  present  is  strictly  subordinate  and  an- 
cillary, as  of  right  it  should  be.  Newman's  main  thought 
—  thought  in  this  case  deeply  touched  with  feeling  —  dom- 
inated, as  in  the  case  of  the  distinctively  rhetorical  writer 
it  might  fail  to  do. 

Take   now   another   specimen   of   Newman   in   his   more 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN 


155 


imaginative  mood  —  mood  more  imaginative,  and  perhaps 
more  imaginative  time  of  life.  I  quote  from  a  sermon 
preached  in  St.  Mary's  at  Oxford,  while  the  preacher  was 
still  an  Anglican,  while  therefore  he  was  also  still  young. 
The  sermon  is  on  the  subject  of  "  Angels,"  altho  the  title 
is  "  The  Powers  of  Nature."  Newman  thought  the  "  Angels  " 
were  of  those  "  Powers."     He  says : 

"  I  do  not  pretend  to  say,  that  we  are  told  in  Scripture  what 
Matter  is ;  but  I  affirm,  that  as  our  souls  move  our  bodies,  be 
our  bodies  what  they  may,  so  there  are  Spiritual  Intelligences 
which  move  these  wonderful  and  vast  portions  of  the  natural 
world  which  seem  to  be  inanimate ;  and  as  the  gestures,  speech, 
and  expressive  countenances  of  our  friends  around  us  enable 
us  to  hold  intercourse  with  them,  so,  in  the  motions  of  universal 
Nature,  in  the  interchange  of  day  and  night,  summer  and  winter, 
wind  and  storm,  fulfilling  His  word,  we  are  reminded  of  the 
blessed  and  dutiful  Angels.  .  .  ,  Thus,  whenever  we  look 
abroad,  we  are  reminded  of  those  most  gracious  and  holy  Beings, 
the  servants  of  the  Holiest,  who  deign  to  minister  to  the  heirs  of 
salvation.  Every  breath  of  air  and  ray  of  light  and  heat,  every 
beautiful  prospect,  is,  as  it  were,  the  skirts  of  their  garments,  the 
waving  of  the  robes  of  those  whose  faces  see  God  in  heaven." 
[Italics  my  own.] 

I  quote  the  foregoing  not  as  an  example  of  fine  imaginative 
writing,  tho  it  is  often  quoted  and  admired  for  such,  and 
not  as  an  example  of  well-ordered  and  rhythmical  prose, 
tho  it  is  perhaps  fairly  enough  characteristic  of  Newman's 
style  at  its  best;  but  only  by  way  of  illustrating  the  trait  of 
genuineness  in  the  writer.  Fanciful  as,  to  the  casual  reader, 
the  ideas  expressed  may  seem  to  be,  they  are  by  no  means 
the  offspring  of  mere  playful  creative  fancy  on  Newman's 
part.  His  fancy  indeed  exercised  itself,  but  in  obedience  to 
sentiment.  Newman  soberly  thought  what  he  said.  He  was 
simply  true  to  his  own  individual  conception  and  conviction. 
In  short,  he  was  perfectly  genuine.  This  is  John  Henry 
Newman.  He  was  genuine  here,  as  he  is  genuine  every- 
where. 


156  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

So  much  for  what  is  at  once  chief,  and  .chiefly  admirable, 
in  Newman  considered  as  a  writer  —  his  genuineness. 
■^  The  second  trait,  as  in  the  man,  so  in  his  Hterary  work, 
to  command  our  attention  and  our  respect,  is  his  solemn 
earnestness.  He  not  only  means  what  he  says,  but  he  says 
what  he  means.  And  what  he  means,  he  means  intensely. 
This  character  in  him  as  a  writer  is  branded,  an  ineffaceable, 
an  unescapable,  legend  all  over  his  work ;  nay,  it  is  inseparably 
waterlined  —  more,  incorporate,  in  it. 

Next,  or  perhaps  simultaneous,  and  indistinguishably  one 
in  impression  with  both  his  genuineness  and  his  earnestness, 
is  Newman's  quality  of  unworldliness.  But  this  quality  in 
him  deserves  a  less  negative  name.  Let  us  call  it  spiritual- 
mindedness.  A  man  more  worthy,  seeming  more  worthy,  of 
the  praise  implied  in  this  attribute,  I  do  not  know  in  literature 
or  in  history.  The  detachment,  to  use  that  word  in  its  some- 
what esoteric  religious  meaning,  the  detachment  of  New- 
man's mind  is  really  wonderful.  It  is  almost  excessive.  At 
least  it  has  the  effect  to  remove  him  a  little  too  far  —  for 
the  most  vital  influence  on  men  in  general  —  from  the  sphere 
of  ordinary  human  interests.  The  Apologia  derived  its 
exceptional  charm  for  the  great  public  from  the  fact  of  its 
constituting  a  kind  of  return,  on  the  writer's  part,  to  a 
world,  the  world  of  his  fellow-men  in  general,  long  since  for- 
saken, and,  as  it  were,  forgotten  by  him.  It  exhibited  the 
Roman  Catholic  priest  in  the  amiable  light  of  a  man  and  an 
Englishman,  of  a  mortal  with  red  blood  in  his  veins,  a  man 
honorably  desirous  to  be  thought  at  least  justly  of,  if  not 
well  of,  by  his  fellows. 

It  was  a  persuasive,  an  irresistible,  appeal  on  his  own 
behalf,  made  in  the  free  and  open  forum  of  common  human 
feeling.  But  even  in  the  Apologia,  the  detachment,  the 
unworldliness,  of  the  writer  is  a  very  striking  character  in 
the  writing.  The  heat  of  indignant  self-defense  at  no  point 
forces  Newman  beyond  a  momentary,  a  provisional,  putting 
off  of  his  habitual  heavenly-mindedness.  He  is  angry  only 
as  one  might  imagine  an  angel  to  be  angry.     But  there  is 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN 


157 


pregnant  enough  hint  provided  of  flame  that  might  burn 
very  devouring  round  about  him,  if  he  should  cease  to  hold 
it  in  check.  As  the  fact  stands,  his  wrath  never  exceeds  a 
certain  just  measure. 

What  precedes  I  had  already  set  down,  before  lighting 
upon  a  letter  of  Newman's  lately  made  public,  in  which  the 
writer  speaks  of  his  own  inward  emotion  in  composing  his 
Apologia.  This  letter  was  called  out  by  the  then  recent 
death  of  Charles  Kingsley,  that  antagonist  of  his  to  whose 
accusations  the  Apologia  was  a  reply.  Newman  says  in 
it :  "A  casual  reader  would  think  my  language  denoted 
anger,  but  it  did  not."  He  goes  on  to  explain  that  he  was 
indignant  only  in  order  to  obtain  a  hearing  and  to  be  be- 
lieved. The  pure  unworldliness  of  spirit  in  which  Newman 
began,  seems  to  have  become  curiously  blended  at  last  with 
the  thorough-going  Roman  Catholic  ecclesiastic's  absorption 
in  the  interests  of  his  hierarchy,  and  consequent  indiiYerence 
to  the  world  —  as  the  world  exists  outside  of  the  "  Church." 
Newman's  interior  serenity,  therefore,  under  attack  from 
the  "  world,"  was  due,  in  part  uncertain  how  large,  to  the 
insular  unconcern  of  a  man  whose  citizenship  was  in  a  dif- 
ferent country.  This  deep  unconcern  enabled  Newman, 
with  equal  equanimity,  to  refuse  communication  even  by 
speech  with  his  own  brother,  the  free-thinker,  Francis  W., 
and  to  treat  blandly  assailants  whom  by  exception  he  thought 
it  worth  while  to  notice  at  all. 

I  am  led  naturally  to  name  next  a  schooled,  well-bred 
urbanity  in  manner  as  characteristic  of  Newman's  literary 
style.  One  feels  that  were  that  writer  less,  than  in  fact  he 
is,  under  the  control  of  a  spiritual  mind,  he  would  still  be 
saved  from  anything  like  what  the  French  call  "  brutality  " 
in  expression,  by  the  sentiment  of  self-respect,  or  by  a  cer- 
tain imperturbable  rectitude  of  judgment  joined  to  a  vigi- 
lantly self-guarding  instinct  of  taste.  In  short,  independent 
of  his  unworldliness,  and  additional  to  it,  the  gentleman-like 
quality  is  everywhere  to  be  felt,  even  throughout  the  strain 
of  energetic  controversy,  in  Newman's  style. 


158  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

'  Genuineness,    earnestness,    spiritual-mindedness,    urbanity 

—  these  qualities  are  sufficient  to  confer  distinction  on  any 
style   in  which   they  are   present.X  jBuT^evidently   they   are 

•  moral,  rather  than  intellectual  or  literary,  qualities.  They 
belong  to  the  man  as  man,  almost  more  than  they  belong  to 
the  writer  as  writer.  Still,  a  man  such  will  inevitably  be 
V  such  a  writer.  Besides,  the  qualities  named,  moral  though 
they  themselves  be,  beget  qualities,  or  tend  to  beget  qualities, 
that  are  intellectual  or  literary.     Of  the  qualities  thus  begot- 

'  ten  in  Newman,  may  be  named  lucidity  and  simplicity. 
Such  lucidity  and  such  simplicity  as  spring  from  genuine- 
ness and  earnestness,  Newman's  style  undoubtedly  possesses 
in  a  high  degree. 

But  —  but  —  now  a  serious  question.  That  question  is, 
beyond  the  mark  just  indicated,  how  much  may  justly  and 
wisely  be  attributed  to  Newman  in  the  way  of  lucidity  and 

.  simplicity?  Has  he  the  lucidity  and  the  simplicity  of  exer- 
cised and  disciplined  art?  Critics  generally  say,  or  imply, 
"  Yes."  Or  else  they  are  "  very  bold "  and  attribute  a 
lucidity  and  a  simplicity  far  transcending  art,  a  lucidity  and 
a  simplicity,  therefore,  able  to  dispense  with  art.  I  cannot 
agree. 

First,  whatever  merit  of  lucidity  is  fairly  Newman's  must 
be  reconciled  with  such  sentences  as  the  following  —  and, 
sentences  approximately  such  are  not  very  infrequent  in  his 
works  (I  call  attention  with  italics) : 

"  They  [the  "  originators "  of  the  Anglo-Catholic  party]  put 
forth  views  and  principles  for  their  own  sake,  because  they  were 
true,  as  if  they  were  obliged  to  say  them  ["  say "  "  views  and 
principles"?]  and,  as  they  might  be  themselves  surprised  at  their 
[own?]  earnestness  in  uttering  them,  they  had  as  great  cause  to 
be  surprised  at  the  success  which  attended  their  propagation 
[dissemination  ?  promulgation  ?] ." 

(The  "  success  "  in  question  could  hardly  be  said  to  "  at- 
tend "  the  "propagation"  of  the  "views  and  principles" 
alluded  to ;  the  "  propagation,"  if  that  result  occurred,  would 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN 


159 


itself  constitute  the  "  success.")  Surely,  writing  ideally  lucid 
does  not  deal  in  a  distraction  of  pronouns  like  that  exempli- 
fied in  the  sentence  just  quoted.  The  quotation  is  from  the 
Apologia,  p.  76. 

Again,  whatever  simplicity  may  justly  be  credited  to  New- 
man's style  must  be  reconciled  with  confused  sentences  like 
the  following,  not  uncharacteristic  of  this  author's  ordinary 
manner;  the  autobiographer  quotes  from  himself  {Apologia, 
PP- 72,  73)-    He  says: 

"  I  speak  in  the  Preface  of  '  offering  suggestions  toward  a 
work,  which  must  be  uppermost  in  the  mind  of  every  true  son 
of  the  English  Church  at  this  day, —  the  consolidation  of  a  the- 
ological system,  which,  built  upon  those  formularies,  to  which 
all  clergymen  are  bound,  may  tend  to  inform,  persuade,  and 
absorb  into  itself  religious  minds,  which  hitherto  have  fancied, 
that,  on  the  peculiar  Protestant  questions,  they  were  seriously 
opposed  to  each  other.' " 

To  me  that  sentence  does  not  seem  either  very  simple  or 
very  lucid.  No  style,  in  fact,  can  justly  be  pronounced  ex- 
ceptionally simple,  and  no  style  is  likely  to  be  exceptionally 
lucid,  that  tends  to  multiply  relative  constructions,  especially 
to  multiply  relative  constructions  in  a  manner  to  make  them 
depend  in  succession,  one  upon  another.  I  cannot  help 
thinking  that  a  little  labor  of  art  would  have  been  well 
bestowed  by  the  writer  of  the  sentences  last  quoted  in  dis- 
entangling them  for  the  readier  comprehension  of  the  reader. 
As  an  incidental  point  of  diction,  is  it  the  felicity  of  a  true 
master  of  style  to  speak  of  a  "  theological  system "  as 
"  absorbing  minds  into  itself "  ?  And  now,  having  spoken 
of  diction,  I  may  as  weK  here  at  once  say  that  Newman  | 
occasionally  adulterates  the  rhetorical  purity  of  his  language 
with  words  and  usages  hardly  better  than  newspaperish. 
Sometimes  these  will  be  unnecessarily  high-sounding  or 
pedantic ;  sometimes,  on  the  other  hand,  over-familiar,  to 
the  verge  of  vulgarity.  Clientela  {Apologia,  p.  15), 
"  catachrestically  "  {lb.,  p.  161),  "palmary  instance,"  "  dom- 


l6o         MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

inant  circumambient '  Popery '  "  (lb.,  p.  79),  "  comprecation," 
are  examples  of  the  former ;  "  uppish,"  "  anyhow,"  "  pro- 
gressed," "  equally  as  well  as,"  "  forming  schemes  what  they 
will  do,"  are  examples  of  the  latter.  It  may  further  be  men- 
tioned that  expressions  which  have  been  stigmatized  as 
"  American  "  meet  one's  eye,  redeemed  to  English  respecta- 
bility on  Newman's  page,  e.  g-,  "  go  ahead,"  "[preachers'] 
respective  antecedents,"  "advocated  conclusions."  French 
words,  Latin  words,  and  even  Greek  words  occur  not  seldom. 
-^  would  be  easy  to  adduce,  in  overwhelming  number,  ex- 
amples of  sins  against  lucidity  and  simplicity  in  Newman's 
style.  But  I  prefer  to  say  comprehensively  (with  ample 
store  of  instances  held  in  reserve  to  confirm  the  judgment) 
that,  in  those  two  capital  virtues,  at  least,  of  the  consummate 
literary  artist,  Newman  is  far  from  excelling. 

Let  me  now  bring  forward  a  sentence  (Apologia,  p. 
165),  a  really  good  sentence  of  its  kind,  that  will  show  New- 
man, and  show  him  characteristically,  at  his  truly  admirable 
best: 

"  The  members  of  this  new  school  looked  up  to  me,  as  I  have 
said,  and  did  me  true  kindnesses,  and  really  loved  me,  and  stood 
by  me  in  trouble,  when  others  went  away,  and  for  all  this  I  was 
grateful ;  nay,  many  of  them  were  in  trouble  themselves,  and 
in  the  same  boat  with  me,  and  that  was  a  further  cause  of  sym- 
pathy between  us ;  and  hence  it  was,  when  the  new  school  came 
on  in  force,  and  into  collision  with  the  old,  I  had  not  the  heart, 
any  more  than  the  power,  to  repel  them ;  I  was  in  great  per- 
plexity, and  hardly  knew  where  I  stood;  I  took  their  part;  and, 
when  I  wanted  to  be  in  peace  and  silence,  I  had  to  speak  out, 
and  I  incurred  the  charge  of  weakness  from  some  men,  and  of 
mysteriousness,  shuffling,  and  underhand  dealing  from  the  ma- 
jority." 

That  is  not  a  vertebrate  sentence;  vertebrate  sentences 
Newman  does  not  produce.  It  is  an  articulate  sentence.  It 
does  not  march.  There  is  no  "  quadrupedante  putreni 
sonitii "  effect  in  it.  It  advances,  but  it  is  rather  by  sliding 
than   by   striding.    Mutatis  mutandis,  that   sentence  might 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN  i6i 

have  lost  its  way  out  of  one  of  Plato's  pages.  It  is  Greek 
in  its  purity  of  vernacular  idiom,  in  its  artless-seeming,  per- 
haps really  artless,  multiplication  of  "  ands,"  its  easy  aggre- 
gation of  clauses,  its  unconscious  unconcern  for  structure, 
its  willingness  to  go  on  and  on  to  no  certain  end  foreseen, 
its  simple  trust  to  come  out  safely  somewhere,  and  then  in 
its  actually  coming  out  at  last  in  precisely  the  right  place 
for  the  emphasis  of  thought  desired. 

It  is  easier  to  write  Greek  sentences  than  it  is  to  write 
Latin,  invertebrate  than  vertebrate,  loose  than  periodic; 
easier  to  write  them,  but  not  easier  to  write  them  well.  To 
write  them  well  is  about  the  last  consummate  triumph  of 
literary  aptitude  schooled  to  literary  art.  The  danger  con- 
stantly is  that  you  will  let  your  ease  lapse  into  negligence, 
that  your  negligence  will  escape  your  attention  degenerating 
from  what  is  noble  into  what  is  ignoble.  You  cannot  have 
your  robes  flowing  and  write  well  in  the  manner  now  de- 
scribed. But  the  effect  must  be  as  if  your  robes  were  flow- 
ing when  you  produced  the  effect.  All  the  more  reason  why 
you  should,  in  point  of  fact,  have  them  tightly  cinctured. 

It  cannot  wisely  be  said  that  in  general  the  Greek  style  is 
better  than  the  Latin.  Also,  the  converse  of  this  cannot 
wisely  be  affirmed.  Each  style  has  its  own  peculiar  virtues 
to  recommend  it.  One  is  better  for  certain  purposes,  the 
other,  for  certain  other  purposes.  Newman  would,  in  my 
opinion^  have  written  Greek  better  if  he  had  written  Latin 
more.  I  His  style  tends  to  formlessness;  and  this  tendency 
practice  on  his  part  of  writing  in  periods  would  have  con- 
tributed to  correct.J) 

Let  me  illustrate  what  I  mean  in  ascribing  to  Newman  a 
tendency  to  formlessness  in  style;  an  ascription  which,  I 
admit,  is  much  the  same  as  denying  to  him  the  firm  posses- 
sion of  style.  I  give  the  paragraph  {Apologia,  pp.  165,  166) 
immediately  following  the  sentence  last  quoted  from  New- 
man. And,  by  the  way,  it  happens,  by  a  quite  unintended 
felicity  of  coincidence,  that  these  citations,  made  primarily 
for  a  subordinate  purpose,  will  incidentally  present  in  small 
K 


l62         MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

the  very  substance  and  marrow  of  Newman's  entire  noble  self- 
defense  : 

"  Now  I  will  say  here  frankly,  that  this  sort  of  charge  [that 
of  "underhand  dealing"]  is  a  matter  which  I  cannot  properly 
meet,  because  I  cannot  duly  realize  it.  I  have  never  had  any 
suspicion  of  my  own  honesty;  and,  when  men  say  that  I  was 
dishonest,  I  cannot  grasp  the  accusation  as  a  distinct  conception, 
such  as  it  is  possible  to  encounter.  If  a  man  said  to  me,  'On 
such  a  day  and  before  such  persons  you  said  a  thing  was  white, 
when  it  was  black,'  I  understand  what  is  meant  well  enough, 
and  I  can  set  myself  to  prove  an  alibi  or  to  explain  a  mistake; 
or  if  a  man  said  to  me,  *  You  tried  to  gain  me  over  to  your 
party,  intending  to  take  me  with  you  to  Rome,  but  you  did  not 
succeed,'  I  can  give  him  the  lie,  and  lay  down  an  assertion 
of  my  own  as  firm  and  as  exact  as  his,  that  not  from  the  time 
that  I  was  first  unsettled,  did  I  ever  attempt  to  gain  any  one 
over  to  myself  or  to  my  Romanizing  opinions,  and  that  it  is  only 
his  own  coxcombical  fancy  which  has  bred  such  a  thought  in 
him;  but  my  imagination  is  at  a  loss  in  presence  of  those  vague 
charges  which  have  commonly  been  brought  against  me,  charges, 
which  are  made  up  of  impressions,  and  understandings,  and  in- 
ferences, and  hearsay,  and  surmises.  Accordingly,  I  shall  not 
make  the  attempt,  for  in  doing  so,  I  should  be  dealing  blows  in 
the  air;  what  I  shall  attempt  is  to  state  what  I  know  of  myself 
and  what  I  recollect,  and  leave  to  others  its  application."  [In 
"coxcombical,"  was  there  a  moment's  lapse  from  urbanity?] 

It  is  a  negligence,  not,  as  I  think,  "  noble,"  to  say,  "  This 
sort  of  charge  is  a  matter  which  I  cannot  properly  meet," 
instead  of  saying,  "  This  sort  of  charge  is  one,"  etc.,  or,  "  A 
charge  of  this  sort  I  cannot  properly  meet,"  for  the  obvious 
reason  that  it  is  a  "  charge  "  and  not  a  "  matter  "  that  one 
"  meets  "  in  the  way  of  refutation.  "  If  a  man  said  to  me 
.  I  understand"  (instead  of  "should  understand") 
is  a  false  concord  of  moods  and  tenses.  "  I  understand  what 
is  meant  well  enough,"  should  be,  "  I  [should]  understand 
well  enough  what  was  meant."  "  And  I  can  not,"  etc.,  should 
be     "  And     I     could     not,"     etc.     "  If     a     man     said     to 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN  163 

me  ...  I  can  give  him  the  lie."  This  last  expres- 
sion, by  the  way,  is  ambiguous,  for  it  might  mean, 
"  I  did  succeed,"  that  is,  in  bringing  the  man  in  ques- 
tion over  to  Rome,  instead  of  meaning  (Newman's  true 
thought),  "I  never  tried  to  do  it."  "But  you  did  not  suc- 
ceed," was  not  to  Newman's  purpose;  he  ought  to  have 
suppressed  it.  "  Charges "  cannot  properly  be  said  to  be 
"  made  up  of  impressions  and  understandings,"  etc. ;  they 
may  be  said  to  be  "  founded  "  on  such  things,  or  possibly  to 
be  "  made  up  from  "  them.  "  Accordingly,  I  shall  not  make 
the  attempt."  What  "attempt?"  There  has  been  no  "at- 
tempt "  spoken  of,  except  the  "  attempt "  to  gain  converts 
for  Rome ;  and  that  "  attempt "  cannot  be  meant.  Of  course, 
the  "attempt"  merely  suggested  (hardly  suggested)  in  the 
words,  "  my  imagination  is  at  a  loss,"  is  what  Newman  had 
in  mind. 

Now  it  may  be  said  in  reply  to  all  this :  "  Newman  was 
too  intent  on  his  main  purpose  to  regard  these  niceties  of 
expression.  And  in  fact,  despite  faults  committed,  he  makes 
his  meaning  well  enough  understood.  A  great  aim  sincerely 
sought  carries  the  day  over  rhetorical  and  grammatical  in- 
advertences." Most  certainly,  say  I;  and,  as  long  as  it  is 
the  matter  only,  and  not  at  all  the  form,  in  Newman's  work 
that  receives  the  attention,  no  such  objections  as  these  of 
mine  need  be  made.  But  when  Newman's  style  is  praised 
as  it  is  praised,  then  there  is  fair  reason  for  considering 
whether  the  praise  be  deserved. 

(  It  is  a  proof  of  Newman's  writing  with  a  loose  girdle  that 
he  leaves  his  participles  now  and  again  without  syntax,  as 
also  that  now  and  again  he  makes  his  adverbs  or  adverbial 
expressions  qualify  nouns.J  Examples  of  the  latter  fault: 
"  Speaking  of  the  strangeness  at  first  sight,  in  the  judgment 
of  the  present  day,  of  some  of  their  principles,"  etc. 
(Apologia,  p.  55);  and,  "The  multitude,  whose  best 
estate  is  that  of  chastisement,  repentance,  supplication  and 
absolution,  again  and  again."  (Sermons,  Vol.  II.,  p.  136.) 
Examples  of  the  former: 


l64         MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

"  Then,  too,  it  was  reported,  truly  or  falsely,  how  a  rising 
man  of  brilliant  reputation,  the  present  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  Dr. 
Milman,  admired  and  loved  him  [Keble],  adding,  that  somehow 
he  was  strangely  unlike  any  one  else."   (Apologia,  p.  17.) 

Again : 

"Dying  prematurely,  as  he  [Hurrell  Froude]  did,  m  the  con- 
flict and  transition-state  of  opinion,  his  religious  views  never 
reached  their  ultimate  conclusion,  by  the  very  reason  of  their 
multitude  and  their  depth."     (Apologia,  p.  24.) 

As  touching  the  last  sentence  quoted  it  may,  in  passing, 
be  remarked  that  "  views  "  do  not  tend  toward  being  "  con- 
cluded." I  note  thus  an  instance,  in  itself  unimportant,  of 
a  certain  lack  of  felicity  in  expression  which  marks  New- 
man's style.  He  writes  obstructedly.  Something  seems 
constantly  to  impede  his  movement.  There  is  progress  all 
the  time ;  but  it  is  progress  accomplished  with  labor.  There 
is  no  flow.  You  encounter  awkwardnesses  of  expression, 
more  or  less  striking,  on  almost  every  page.  For  example, 
on  the  same  page  with  the  sentence  last  quoted  you  find 
Newman  saying,  still  of  Hurrell  Froude: 

"  He  was  more  than  inclined  to  believe  a  large  amount  of 
miraculous  interference  as  occurring  in  the  early  and  middle 
ages." 

Once  more,  still  on  the  same  page,  Newman  says : 

"  I  am  introducing  others  into  my  narrative,  not  for  their  own 
sake,  or  because  I  love  and  have  loved  them,  so  much  as  because, 
and  so  far  as,  they  have  influenced  my  theological  views." 

The  syntax  here,  when  disentangled,  is  as  follows :  "  I  am 
introducing  others  into  my  narrative  not  because  I  love  them 
so  much  as  so  far  as  they  have  influenced  my  views."  This 
last  awkwardness  is  due  to  pressure  of  thought  not  com- 
pelled by  the  writer  to  wait  the  course  of  orderly  utterance. 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN  165 

Many  of  the  mere  non-felicities  of  Newman's  style  are  to 
be  traced  to  his  lack  of  imagination  —  imagination,  that  is 
to  say,  of  the  right  sort.  Take,  for  example,  this  sentence 
{Apologia,  p.  52)  : 

"  But  now,  as  to  the  third  point  on  which  I  stood  in  1833,  and 
which  I  have  utterly  renounced  and  trampled  upon  since, —  my 
then  view  of  the  Church  of  Rome ; —  I  will  speak  about  it  as 
exactly  as  I  can." 

Of  course,  implicit  here  in  the  word  "  stood  "  is  the  image 
of  a  ground,  a  position,  occupied.  One  "  forsakes,"  or 
"  abandons,"  hardly  "  renounces,"  a  "  position  " ;  one  "  re- 
nounces "  a  "  view."  But  a  position  or  ground,  even  when 
called  a  "  point,"  is  not  the  sort  of  thing  that  one  "  tramples 
upon  " —  certainly  not  after  having  abandoned  it.  No  doubt 
the  thing  to  be  expressed  gets  itself  expressed;  but  the  ques- 
tion now  is  of  that  felicity  in  expression  which  must  enter 
as  an  element  into  admirable  style.  "  My  then  view "  is 
to  be  defended,  if  defended,  as  a  Grecism;  it  assuredly  is 
not  English.  If  a  newspaper  reporter  should  say,  as  New- 
man (on  the  same  page)  says:  "When  it  was  that  in  my 
deliberate  judgment  I  gave  up  the  notion  altogether  in  any 
shape,  that,"  etc.,  we  should  excuse  it  because  of  his  haste 
and  his  habit  of  haste,  but  we  should  hardly  account  it  an 
unconscious  trait  of  mastership  in  style.  Infelicitous,  nay, 
downright  inaccurate,  not  to  say  slipshod,  are  the  following 
expressions  of  thought,  which,  nevertheless,  undeniably  do 
—  for  this  is  the  privilege  accorded  to  genuineness  —  carry 
their  intended  sense  ' 

"  It  is  very  common  for  Christians  ...  to  place  the  very 
substance  of  religious  obedience  in  a  few  meagre  observances,  or 
particular  moral  precepts  which  are  easily  complied  with,  and 
[compliance  with]  zvhich  they  think  tit  to  call  giving  up  the 
world."     Sermon,   "  Christian   Manhood." 

Again : 

"We   cannot    combine,    in    our   thought    of   her    [the   Virgin 


1 66  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

Mary],  all  we  should  ascribe  with  all  we  should  withhold."    Ser- 
mon, "  Annunciation  of  the  Blessed  Virgin." 

Of  course   we  should   not  wish   to  make   the   combination 
spoken  of. 

The  expression  "  any  how,"  in  the  sense  of  "  at  any  rate," 
which,  printed  thus  in  two  separate  words  —  and,  by  the 
way,  Newman's  somewhat  peculiar  mode  of  printing  I  follow 
scrupulously  throughout  in  quoting  from  him  —  is,  as  before 
noticed,  a  recurring  use  of  this  writer's  —  what  shall  we  say 
of  it?  That  his  authority  redeems  it  from  the  reproach  of 
vulgarity,  or  of  colloquialism  too  familiar  ?  "  However," 
used  prepositively,  e.  g.,  "  However,  I  have  many  difficulties 
in  fulfilling  my  design "  (Apologia,  p.  xxiii.)  occurs  at 
times  on  Newman's  page;  but  it  would  be  hard,  I  think,  to 
find,  outside  of  Newman  himself,  high  classic  authority  for 
this  word  so  placed.  Here  are  instances  of  correlated  tenses 
mismatched  (Apologia,  p.  345)  : 

"Had  I  had  any  idea  that  I  should  have  been  exposed  .  .  . 
I  should  have  made,"  etc. 

"  Since  I  could  not  foresee  when  I  wrote  that  I  should  have 
been  wantonly  slandered,"  etc. 

Page  282  — "Those  are  the  principles  on  which  I  have  acted 
before  I  was  a  Catholic,"  etc. 

A  not  admirable  habit  on  Newman's  part  of  parenthesiz- 
ing expressions,  is  exemplified  in  the  following  sentence, 
which  the  attentive  reader  will  find  in  other  respects  also 
open  to  criticism.  I  quote  from  a  famous  sermon,  that  on 
"The  Religion  of  the  Day": 

"  They  ["  many  religious  men  "]  have  strangely  imagined  that 
bad  men  are  to  be  the  immediate  instruments  of  the  approaching 
advent  of  Christ;  and  (like  the  deluded  Jews  not  many  years 
since  in  a  foreign  country)  they  have  taken,  if  not  for  their 
Messiah  (as  the  Jews  did),  at  least  for  their  Elijah,  their  re- 
forming Baptist,  the  Herald  of  the  Christ,  children  of  this  world, 
and  sons  of  Belial,  on  whom  the  anathema  of  the  Apostle  lies 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN 


167 


from  the  beginning,  declaring,  'If  any  man  love  not  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  let  him  be  Anathema  Maran-atha.' "  ["  Instru- 
ments "  of  an  "  advent "  ?] 

To  show  examples  of  fault  in  a  writer  in  whom  we  all 
may  find  so  much  to  admire,  has  not  been  a  pleasing  task. 
The  examples  shown  are  true  examples  —  that  is,  they  are 
not  mere  exceptions  to  a  rule  of  accuracy  and  elegance  gen- 
erally prevalent  with  Newman.  Newman's  style,  not  uni- 
formly, but  on  the  whole  and  not  simply  in  rare  passages,  is 
such  as  I  have  indicated.  The  excellences  of  it,  however 
great  and  however  numerous,  must,  in  any  fairly  balanced 
and  comprehensive  estimate  of  its  quality,  be  offset  with  the 
shortcomings  and  offenses,  considered  as  characteristic,  that 
I  have  here  inadequately  exemplified.  These  shortcomings 
and  offenses  are  happily  quite  consistent  with  the  high  merits 
that  I  began  the  present  criticism  by  attributing  to  Newman's 
style;  but  they  are,  in  my  opinion,  far  from  consistent  with 
the  idea  that  Newman  is  the  best  prose  writer  in  the  English 
language,  or  that  he  is  the  best  prose  writer  of  his  time,  or 
even  that  he  is  to  be  ranked  at  all  among  the  great  classic 
authors  of  our  literature.  He  has,  in  fact,  produced  noth- 
ing whatever  likely  to  survive,  in  general  fame,  the  vivid 
interest  which  his  own  fascinating  and  puissant  living  per- 
sonality possessed  the  secret  of  exciting  among  his  fellows; 
nothing,  unless  we  except  one  or  two  of  his  pieces  in  verse, 
—  by  eminence  his  famous  "  Lead,  Kindly  Light,"  of  which 
I  may  permit  myself  the  digression  very  briefly  to  speak. 

That  this  tender  little  poem  has  been  made  a  hymn  of,  is 
not  to  be  charged  to  the  responsibility  of  the  author.  How 
little  he  himself  conceived  it  as  a  hymn,  seems  incidentally 
to  be  shown  by  the  circumstance  that,  though  he  painstak- 
ingly commences  with  capital  letters  even  the  pronouns 
referring  to  the  Divine  Being,  he,  in  the  Apologia,  prints 
as  title  the  first  three  words  of  this  piece  without  so  dis- 
tinguishing either  the  adjective  or  the  noun  in  "  kindly  light." 
That  expression  could  not  therefore  have  been,  in  the  au- 
thor's conception,  a  figurative  name  for  the  Divine  Being 


1 68  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

in  any  one  of  His  Three  Persons.  The  piece  was  evidently 
begun  rather  as  a  pensive  meditation  than  as  a  devotional 
outpouring.  The  exigencies  of  verse,  together  vv^ith  the 
writer's  habitually  devout  spirit,  gave  it  a  strong  religious 
tinge,  this  tinge  growing  stronger  as  the  work  of  composi- 
tion proceeded;  but  the  meditative  element  prevailed  over 
the  devotional,  to  the  end ;  indeed,  at  the  end,  the  very  end, 
altogether  absorbed  and  obliterated  that.  To  this  not  strictly 
devotional  character  of  the  poem  is  in  large  part  to  be 
attributed  the  acceptableness  of  it  with  non-religious  per- 
sons, who  may  indulge  sentiment  that  they  are  willing  to 
think  of,  and  to  speak  of,  as  religious. 

Thus  James  Anthony  Froude,  pronouncing  "  Lead,  Kindly 
Light,"  the  most  popular  hymn  in  the  language,  says  of  it, 
"  All  of  us,  Catholic,  Protestant,  or  such  as  [like  Froude 
himself]  can  see  their  way  to  no  positive  creed  at  all,  can 
here  meet  on  common  ground,  and  join  in  a  common  prayer." 
(Italics  my  own.)  No  doubt  the  most  "evangelical"  of 
Christians,  allegorizing  the  language  of  Newman's  little 
poem  in  a  sense  to  suit  themselves,  can  sing  it  as  a  hymn, 
with  true  personal  worship  of  God.  At  any  rate,  what  with 
the  exquisite,  and  exquisitely  adapted,  tune  that  it  has  been 
fortunate  enough  to  find,  the  poem  has  a  wide  currency 
which  it  is  likely  long  to  enjoy  —  or  at  least  so  long  as  the 
present  period  of  religious  doubt  lasts.  The  tone  of  the 
hymn  falters  far  short  of  the  brave  believing  spirit  of  the 
New  Testament. 

Of  the  poem,  as  a  piece  of  literature,  and  no  longer  now 
as  a  spiritual  song,  it  is  to  be  said  that  the  tenderness  of  it, 
the  pensive  pathos,  the  longing,  the  reminiscence,  the  hu- 
mility, the  hope,  will  always  endear  it  to  the  sympathetic 
heart.  Concerning  such  an  effusion,  who  that  enjoys  it 
wishes  to  be  reminded  that  it  lacks  true  unity;  that  the  con- 
ception on  which  it  founds  is  indeterminate,  it  being  uncer- 
tain whether  the  "  home  "  far-off  and  longed  for,  to  which 
"  leading "  is  desired,  be  literal  earthly  home,  or  figured 
heavenly  home,  or  perhaps  harbor  and  rest  in  truth  found 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN  169 

at  last;  that  the  idea  of  darkness  already  introduced,  by  im- 
plication of  contrast  in  the  terms  of  the  invocation  "  kindly 
light,"  is  over-expressed  (for  a  poem  so  short,  wherein  the 
\zw  of  frugality  should  strictly  prevail)    when,  after  "  en- 
circling gloom,"  it  is  insisted  that  "the  night  is  dark";  that 
there   seems    something   a   little    forgetful,   or   else   a    little 
finical,  in  complaining  of  the  "  night "  as  "  dark,"  and  yet 
speaking  ill  of  the  "  day  "  as  "  garish  " ;  that  the  idiom  of 
poetry,  at  least  the  idiom  proper  to  such  a  poem  as  this,  is 
for  a  moment  lost  when  it  is  said,  with  however  true  a  wis- 
dom, yet  baldly  and  prosaically,  that  "  spite  of  fears,  pride 
ruled  my  will " ;  that  finally,  to  have  a  strain  of  aspiration, 
on  the  whole  so  high,  culminate  in  the  amiable  egoism  of  a 
hope  to  meet  beloved  friends  once  more,  is  something  of  a 
disappointment  to  the  excited  though  unformed  expectation 
of  the  reader  —  who,  I  say,  that  prizes  this  little  poem,  wishes 
to  be  reminded  of  these  and  like  points  in  it?     I  quote  the 
familiar  lines  to  which  I  now  particularly  refer,  namely,  the 
last  two  lines  of  the  "  hymn  " : 

"  And  with  the  morn  those  angel  faces  smile. 
Which  I  have  loved  long  since  and  lost  awhile."  ' 

That  this  conclusion  to  the  poem  was  rather  of  chance 
than  of  choice  on  the  part  of  the  poet,  that  it  was  determined 
by  the  mood  and  the  circumstances  in  which  he  found  him- 
self involved,  far  more  than  by  any  sense  of  organic  neces- 
sity springing  from  firm  conception  creative  of  unity  and 
completeness  for  the  piece;  that  in  short  the  last  two  lines 
were  much  in  the  nature  of  a  way  out  to  the  author,  found 
where  he  was  running  into  a  hopeless  cid  de  sac,  this  I  for 
my  part  had  guessed  from  study  of  the  thing  itself,  but  the 
following,  subsequently  met  with,  from  Newman's  own  hand 
seemed  virtually  to  admit  it.  Newman  was  asked  by  a  cor- 
respondent what  the  true  sense  of  the  lines  in  question  was 
and  he  replied  playfully  thus: 


170         MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

"The  Oratory,  Jan.  i8,  1879. 
"My  Dear  Mr.  Greenhill: 

"  You  flatter  me  by  your  question ;  but  I  think  it  was  Keble 
who,  when  asked  it  in  his  own  case,  answered  that  poets  were 
not  bound  to  be  critics,  or  to  give  a  sense  to  what  they  had 
written;  and  though  I  am  not,  like  him,  a  poet,  at  least  I  may 
plead  that  I  am  not  bound  to  remember  my  own  meaning, 
whatever  it  was,  at  the  end  of  almost  fifty  years. 

"  Anyhow,  there  must  be  a  statute  of  limitation  for  writers 
of  verse,  or  it  would  be  quite  a  tyranny  if,  in  an  art  which  is 
the  expression  not  of  truth  but  of  imagination  and  sentiment, 
one  were  obliged  to  be  ready  for  examination  on  the  transient 
state  of  mind  which  came  upon  one  when  home-sick,  or  sea-sick, 
or  in  any  other  way  sensitive  or  excited. 

"Yours  most  truly, 
I          A^         /,  /'  ^      "John  H.  Newman,"      ,   J^ 

(y^  Of  course  the  foregoing  pleasant  evasion  confesses  that  h,^/r 

there  really  vyas  no  yyorthv  sensp  at  all   jn  the  lines.     Of 
Newman  as  poet,  then,  must  we  reluctantly  say  that  his  at- 
tribute of   genuineness,   at  least   sometimes,   forsakes  him?  /^ - 
But  he  disclaims  being  a  poet.     On  this  disclaimer  of  his,  let      ^ 
us  allow  him  to  escape  the  charge  of  failing,  even  for  once, /yy^-^ 
in  his  characteristic  genuineness.  O'  n  /  ' 

I  should  be  sincerely  sorry  to  have  made  the  impression^^^^^^**^ 
the  impression  would  be  a  distinct  misunderstanding  of  my 
thought  —  that,  in  pronouncing  Newman's  prose  style  charac- 
teristically lacking  in  felicity  of  diction,  of  phrase,  and  of 
structure,  I  mean  either  to  charge  upon  him  an  unvarying    Uf^C 
habit  of  difficulty  and  awkwardness  in  expressing  himself,  or      ^^ 
to  deny  to  him  occasional,  even  consummately  happy,  turns     -1 
,    of   expression.     What   I   do   mean   is   that   infelicity   is   so       ^ 
frequent  as  justly  to  be  called  characteristic.    It  may  inci- 
dentally serve  to  show  that  saying  this  is  not  censorious- 
ness    in    me,    if    I    now    recall    that    brief    passage    about 
the   "  Angels,"   already   for   a    different   purpose   remarked 
upon,    and   examine    it   a    little    carefully    for   its    form    of 
expression.     My    object    is    simply    to   let    it    appear    how. 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN 


171 


even  in  the  choicer  specimens  of  his  workmanship,  the 
character  of  infeHcity  in  Newman  as  a  writer  is  Hkely  to 
be  found.  Newman  says :  "  There  are  Spiritual  IntelHgences 
which  move  these  wonderful  and  vast  portions  of  the  natural 
world  which  seem  to  be  inaminate."  Capital  letters,  observe, 
to  emphasize  the  personality  of  the  "  Spiritual  Intelligences," 
and  yet  the  relative  pronoun  "  which "  employed  in  refer- 
ring to  them ;  and  this  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  "  which  " 
was  to  follow  almost  immediately  in  a  different  reference. 
"  Those  wonderful  and  vast  portions  of  the  natural  world  " 
—  how  entirely  non-felicitous  an  expression !  "  Every  breath 
of  air  and  ray  of  light  and  heat,  every  beautiful  prospect, 
is,  as  it  were,  the  skirts  of  their  garments."  That  plural 
predicate  after  the  singular  individualized  subject  — "  every 
breath  of  air  is  the  skirts  of  their  garments !  "  Then  the 
alternative  predicate,  wherein  "  the  skirts  of  their  garments  " 
becomes  "  the  waving  of  the  robes  of  those  whose  faces  see 
God  in  heaven."  "  Whose  faces  see  God  in  heaven  "  is  a 
turn  of  expression  apparently  modified  from  the  saying  of 
Jesus  concerning  "  little  ones  " :  "  In  heaven  their  angels  do 
always  behold  the  face  of  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven." 
Not  happily  modified;  in  the  original,  it  is,  as  it  should  be, 
the  "  face "  that  is  beheld,  whereas  in  the  modification  the 
"  faces  "  are  made  to  do  the  beholding. 

This  putting  of  sentences  to  the  rack  may  seem  a  bar- 
barous revival  in  literary  criticism  of  the  question,  so  called, 
that  odious  judicial  process  now  happily  obsolete  in  the 
civilized  world.  Let  us  have  no  more  of  it.  Mean- 
while it  may  stand  as  final  inexpugnable  proof  of  the 
diamond  quality  in  Newman's  work,  that  it  successfully  sur- 
vives analysis  destructive  to  those  mere  exterior  accidents 
of  beauty  in  form  upon  which  literary  reputation  attaching 
to  many  another  writer  so  greatly  depends.  Full  expression 
of  my  judgment  respecting  Newman  as  a  writer  demands 
that  I  say  one  thing  more  of  his  defect  in  matter  of  form, 
namely,  that  this  defect  extends,  with  him,  from  the  struc- 
ture of  the  particular  sentence,  also  to  the  structure  of  the 


172  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

sermon,  the  treatise,  the  book.  An  organizing,  constructive 
mind  was  not  his. 

As  to  rhythm,  that  of  course  is  a  matter  of  ear,  but  New- 
man seems  to  me  wanting  at  this  point.  He  has,  perhaps 
purposely,  avoided  the  sonorous  swell,  the  elaborate  balance, 
of  the  periodic  sentence.  There  is  undoubtedly  now,  among 
the  best  writers,  a  strong  set  of  tendency  in  taste  against 
anything  approaching  the  declamatory  in  rhetoric.  This 
set  of  tendency  in  taste  Newman  has  felt;  his  example,  in 
fact,  has  probably  contributed  much  to  create  it.  The  tend- 
ency I  speak  of  is  partly  a  good  tendency;  but,  unchecked, 
it  goes  to  produce  formless  and  nerveless  composition.  Now, 
in  literature,  matter  is  indeed  more  than  form ;  but  then  valu- 
able matter  is  worthy  of  admirable  form,  while  also  wise 
attention  to  form  reacts  to  produce  more  valuable  matter. 
An  essential  element  of  admirable  form  in  writing  consists 
in  commending  your  style  by  rhythm  to  the  ear;  and  I  sub- 
mit that  to  write :  "  Has  risen  up  simultaneously  in  many 
places  very  mysteriously;"  to  make:  "It  is  not  the  same  as 
it,"  stand  for  a  sentence  complete  in  itself,  in  short,  to 
express  one's  self  in  Newman's  style,  is  to  concede  far  less 
than  is  desirable  to  the  natural  demand  of  readers  for  what 
is  agreeable  in  sound. 

I  now  proceed  to  do  what  I  can  toward  confuting  myself, 
on  this  last  point  of  denial  to  Newman,  by  quoting  the  ex- 
quisitely pathetic  and  tender,  the  deliciously  musical,  sen- 
tences with  which  he  brings  his  Apologia  to  its  close : — 

"  I  have  closed  this  history  of  myself  with  St.  Philip's  name 
upon  St.  Philip's  feast  day;  and,  having  done  so,  to  whom  can 
I  more  suitably  ofifer  it,  as  a  memorial  of  affection  and  grati- 
tude, than  to  St.  Philip's  sons,  my  dearest  brothers  of  this  House, 
the  Priests  of  the  Birmingham  Oratory,  Ambrose  St.  John, 
Henry  Austin  Mills,  Henry  Bittleston,  Edward  Caswall, 
William  Paine  Neville,  and  Henry  Ignatius  Dudley  Ryder? 
who  have  been  so  faithful  to  me ;  who  have  been  so  sensitive  of 
my  needs ;  who  have  been  so  indulgent  to  my  failings ;  who  have 
carried  me  through  so  many  trials ;  who  have  grudged  no  sacrifice, 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN  173 

if  I  asked  for  it;  who  have  been  so  cheerful  under  discourage- 
ments of  my  causing ;  who  have  done  so  many  good  works,  and 
let  me  have  the  credit  of  them; — with  whom  I  have  Uved  so 
long,  with  whom  I  hope  to  die. 

"And  to  you,  especially,  dear  Ambrose  St.  John;  whom  God 
gave  me,  when  He  took  every  one  else  away;  who  are  the  link 
between  my  old  life  and  my  new ;  who  have  now  for  twenty-one 
years  been  so  devoted  to  me,  so  patient,  so  zealous,  so  tender ; 
who  have  let  me  lean  so  hard  upon  you ;  who  have  watched  me 
so  narrowly;  who  have  never  thought  of  yourself,  if  I  was  in 
question. 

"And  in  you  I  gather  up  and  bear  in  memory  those  familiar 
affectionate  companions  and  counselors,  who  in  Oxford  were 
given  to  me,  one  after  another,  to  be  my  daily  solace  and  relief; 
and  all  those  others,  of  great  name  and  high  example,  who  were 
my  thorough  friends,  and  showed  me  true  attachment  in  times 
long  past ;  and  also  those  many  younger  men,  whether  I  knew 
them  or  not,  who  have  never  been  disloyal  to  me  by  word  or 
deed ;  and  of  all  these,  thus  various  in  their  relations  to  me, 
those  more  especially  who  have  since  joined  the  Catholic  Church. 

And  I  earnestly  pray  for  this  whole  company,  with  a  hope 
against  hope,  that  all  of  us,  who  once  were  so  united,  and  so 
happy  in  our  union,  may  even  now  be  brought  at  length,  by  the 
Power  of  the  Divine  Will,  into  One  Fold  and  under  One  Shep- 
herd." 

"  May  26,  1864.    In  Festo  Corp.  Christ." 

If,  occasionally.  In  the  earlier  Newman,  there  breathed 
something  of  the  fierceness  of  the  earlier  John  the  Apostle, 
surely  the  reader  of  the  foregoing  must  admit  that  into  the 
spirit  of  the  later  Newman  had  been  wrought  much  of  the 
sweetness  and  gentleness  of  the  later  John  the  Apostle.  It 
was  melody  in  the  heart  which  made  that  melody  from  the 
pen. 

A  few  words  now  in  characterization  of  Newman's  ser- 
mons as  to  points  no  longer  involving  questions  of  style,  and 
I  have  done.  It  is  of  the  sermons  published  in  eight  volumes 
under  the  title  "  Parochial  and  Plain  Sermons,"  that  I  limit 
myself  to  speak.    These  were  preached  while  the  preacher 


174  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

was  still  in  the  communion  of  the  English  Church,  that  is, 
between  1825  and  1843. 

Apart  from  the  genuineness,  the  earnestness,  the  unworld- 
liness,  already  attributed  as  general  characteristics  of  every- 
thing from  Newman's  pen,  there  is  an  aspect  of  solemnity, 
deepening  almost  into  gloom,  overspreading  the  pages  of 
these  remarkable  volumes.  There  is  the  evident  effort  to 
irradiate  somewhat  the  darkness  of  the  views  presented,  but 
despondency  prevails,  and,  despite  himself,  the  prophet  is 
Jeremiah  who  speaks  here  with  Newman's  voice. 

Introspection,  pitiless  psychological  search  into  the  hid- 
ing-places of  the  human  heart,  analysis  of  motive,  subjection 
of  character  to  test,  branding  of  the  dross,  however  glitter- 
ing, therein  found,  with  its  own  true  worthlessness  —  this 
is  a  marked  feature  of  Newman's  preaching. 

His  sermons  are  eminently  thoughtful  sermons,  for 
thoughtful  souls.  One  is  constrained  in  reading  them  to 
imagine  the  tense  tones,  the  prophet  air,  the  penetrating  per- 
sonal conviction,  the  other-world-ly  spirit,  with  which  they 
must  have  been  delivered.  We  know  that  in  fact  they  did 
profoundly  impress  their  hearers.  But  their  hearers,  to  be 
thus  profoundly  impressed,  needed  to  be,  as  for  the  most 
part  they  were,  persons  of  more  than  ordinary  mental  ca- 
pacity and  culture.  Newman  tried  to  do  faithful  humble 
parish  work  in  his  pulpit,  but  he  was  limited  to  do  what  he 
could,  and  necessarily  his  true  parish  was  composed  of  select 
superior  minds. 

Naturally,  perhaps,  from  Newman's  ecclesiastical  relation 
(with  a  State  establishment  of  religion),  his  preaching 
tended  to  be  ecclesiastical  rather  than  scriptural,  sacramental, 
shall  we  say?  rather  than  even  ethical.  Evangelicalism, 
indeed,  he  expressly  spurned.  It  was  outright  hateful  to 
him.  He  treated  his  hearers  all  as  of  course  Christian,  by 
virtue  of  their  original  unconscious  infant  baptism  into  the 
English  Church.  The  idea  of  "  conversion,"  as  that  idea  is 
held  by  those  whom,  for  convenience,  we  call  evangelical, 
he  scouted: 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN 


175 


"  I  do  not  wish  you  to  be  able  to  point  to  any  particular  time 
when  you  renounced  the  world  (as  it  is  called),  and  were  con- 
verted; this  is  a  deceit." 

So  Newman  expresses  himself  in  his  sermon  entitled  "  The 
Religion  of  the  Day,"  in  which  sermon  he  says  also: 

"  Though  you  dare  not  yet  anticipate  [one  can  hardly  refrain 
from  printing  ( ?)  after  the  word  "  anticipate  "]  you  are  in  the 
number  of  Christ's  true  elect,  yet  from  the  first  you  know  He 
desires  your  salvation,  has  died  for  you,  has  washed  away  your 
sins  by  baptism,  and  will  ever  help  you.  .  .  .  But,  at  the  ■ 
same  time,  you  can  never  be  sure  of  salvation  while  you  are  here." 

These  citations,  and  others  like  might  be  made,  suffice  to 
show  how  far  from  the  orthodoxy  of  "  evangelical "  Chris- 
tianity Newman  was,  even  in  the  period  of  his  least  devia- 
tion. 

But,  considered  in  his  own  ecclesiastical  relation,  and  in  i 
his  own  personal  environment,  Newman  w^as  a  startling 
voice  of  verity.  The  "  dull  cold  ear  of  death  "  in  the  men 
of  his  generation  and  of  his  class,  was  ijused  and  compelled 
to  hear.  And  now,  amid  whatever  cWss,  Newman's  ser- 
mons, wisely  read,  could  not  fail  to  be  an  influence,  hardly  . 
surpassed,  to  make  the  present  evil  world  seem  justly  small 
and  insignificant  compared  with  that  world  unseen  to  which 
we  are  all,  with  ever-accelerated  speed,  ceaselessly  hasten- 
ing. I  know  of  no  writer  in  any  literature  who  applies  a 
more  constantly  powerful  reduction  to  the  imposing  preten- 
sions of  things  seen  and  temporal  to  command  and  absorb 
our  passions  and  our  thoughts.  How  poor,  how  paltry,  the 
glittering  baubles  of  this  world's  pleasure  and  pride  do  look 
to  eyes  fresh  from  bath  in  the  "  master  light "  which  New- 
man sheds  over  his  pages  ! 

It  would  not  be  unfair  to  add  that  the  prevailing  brevity 
of  Newman's  sermons,  and  their  unstudied  structure,  make 
them  wear  the  character  as  much  of  homilies  as  of  sermons. 
Their  value  to  the  average  minister  will  consist  chiefly  in 


1^6  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

V  their  influence  to  elevate,  to  purify,  to  desecularize,  the 
habitual  tone  of  his  thought  and  his  feeling.  After  this  in 
point  of  importance,  they  will  contribute  to  enrich  and 
diversify  his  store  of  material  for  preaching.  As  mere 
models  of  pulpit  oratory  they  will  not  be  found  of  great 

'S   practical  use. 

1  The  sermons  entitled  "The  Religion  of  the  Day,"  "The 
^^vPowers  of  Nature,"  "  The  Reverence  due  to  the  Blessed 
Virgin  Mary,"  "The  Spiritual  Mind,"  "Witnesses  of  the 
Resurrection,"  may  be  named  as  good  characteristic  speci- 
mens of  Newman's  preaching.  The  last-named  may  profit- 
ably be  compared  with  Dr.  McLaren's  remarkable  discourse 
having  the  same  title.  The  one  on  "  The  Religion  of  the 
Day  "  contains  a  passage  of  almost  fierce  outbreaking  zeal 
for  religion  with  power  in  it,  which  excited  remark  in  its 
time,  and  which  may  be  taken  as  unconscious  "  promise  and 
potency  "  of  something  not  so  very  unlike  the  spirit  of  the 
"  Holy  Office." 

On  the  whole,  I  conclude  that,  unless  the  English-speaking 
world  should  become  Roman  Catholic,  Newman's  fame, 
whether  as  preacher  or  as  writer,  is  destined  not  to  wax  but 
to  wane.  That  Oxford  movement,  otherwise  known  as  the 
Tractarian  movement,  of  which  he  was  the  really  greatest 
motive  power,  was  a  strictly  local  and  temporary  stir  of 
religious  thought.     It  has  had,  it  promises  to  have,  no  im- 

f  portant  issue.  Newman's  phenomenal  reputation  is  due,  in 
chief  part,  to  two  as  it  were  accidentally  cooperative  influ- 
ences —  one,  a  personal  or  traditional  comradeship  work- 
ing in  his  favor,  his  case  affording  an  example  of  the  senti- 
ment certain  to  exist  among  any  given  generation  of  minds, 
educated  together  at  a  University  seat  like  Oxford;  and 
another,  the  spirit  of  expiation  toward  Newman  as  toward 
a  person  long  unjustly  aspersed,  this  spirit  of  expiation 
working  freely,  unhindered  by  any  sense  of  possible  rivalry 
between  Englishmen  in  general  and  such  an  individual  Eng- 
lishman as  Newman,  who  had  once  for  all  given  up  every- 
thing that  could  be  subject  of  rivalry  among  Englishmen  in 


■>, 


JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN  177 

general.  When  these  two  influences  have  ceased,  as  with 
mere  lapse  of  time  they  will  cease,  to  work  in  favor  of  New- 
man, his  name  will  gradually  decline  from  its  present  rank 
as  a  star  of  the  first  magnitude  in  the  English  literary 
heaven  to  the  rank  of  a  luminary  still  bright  indeed  with  a 
pure  and  steady  ray,  but  not  conspicuously  distinguishable 
in  the  great  and  growing  galaxy  which  zones  that  intellec- 
tual sky  with  light. 


VII 
CHARLES  HADDON  SPUEGEON 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

By  way  of  introductory  note  to  the  following  criticism, 
I  reproduce  here  an  article  published  in  "  The  Independent " 
newspaper  of  Sept.  13,  1888,  which  I  entitled,  "  Mr.  Spur- 
geon  Again  after  Twenty-nine  Years  " : 

I  have  just  heard  Mr.  Spurgeon  preach  twice  after  an  in- 
terval of  twenty-nine  years  since  I  first  heard  him.  Nat- 
urally the  parallax  of  view  obtained  is  partly  the  hearer's  and 
partly  the  preacher's ;  but  I  have  thought  that  to  some,  at 
least,  among  the  readers  of  "  The  Independent "  it  might  be 
interesting  to  see  a  brief  note  made  of  the  two  observations  in 
mutual  comparison. 

Mr.  Spurgeon,  on  the  first  occasion  referred  to,  was  a 
young  man,  one  might  almost  say  a  youth,  of  twenty-four 
years.  He  was  still  in  the  fresh  recency  and  surprise  of  his 
wonderful  fame.  He  had  not  himself  got  used  to  the  popu- 
larity that  he  had  so  suddenly  won.  He  marveled  at  it  and 
enjoyed  it  with  something  of  a  boyish  delight.  "  That  was  a 
fine  congregation !  "  I  remember  was  almost  the  first  thing 
he  said  to  me,  immediately  after  the  sermon,  when  I  pre- 
sented to  him  my  letter  of  introduction.  It  was  characteris- 
tic, alike  of  the  man,  and  of  the  youth  of  the  man,  thus 
frankly  to  disclose  his  joy  in  the  exercise  of  recognized 
power. 

"  I  always  tremble  with  fear  and  with  a  sense  of  responsi- 
bility when  I  stand  up  to  preach  before  that  great  congrega- 
tion," he  said  to  me  the  other  day,  at  fifty-three  years  of  age ; 
"  it  seems  so  solemn,  so  awful."     This  latter  expression,  so 

181 


1 82  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

different,  was  equally  characteristic  of  the  man,  but  of  the 
man  chastened  and  sobered  with  added  years. 

Apparent  ease  on  his  part  in  preaching  was  a  very  marked 
trait  of  the  youthful  Spurgeon;  apparent  ease  is  equally  a 
trait  of  the  older  man.  But  twenty-nine  years  ago  the  ease 
seemed,  in  great  part,  the  buoyant  exultation  of  youth  and 
health;  the  present  ease  is  that  of  mastery  assured  through 
much  experience. 

That  voice  is  still,  as  it  was  in  the  beginning,  a  master-key 
to  the  secret  of  Mr.  Spurgeon's  extraordinary  power.  Some- 
thing perhaps  it  has  lost  from  the  perfect  resonant  clearness 
of  its  first  unwasted  prime ;  but  it  remains  a  matchless  organ 
of  oratory.  I  put  it  to  a  test  of  some  severity  the  last  time  I 
listened  to  him.  It  was  the  Thursday  evening  sermon.  I 
seated  myself  in  the  gallery  at  nearly  the  utmost  possible 
remove  from  the  speaker  in  that  vast  Tabernacle.  His 
brother  James  conducted  the  services  preceding  the  sermon. 
James's  voice  was  strong,  its  quality  seemed  clear,  but  one 
heard  often  the  sound  of  it  only,  unable  to  distinguish  the 
words.  "  Could  you  follow  him  ?  "  asked  of  me  a  lady  near, 
apparently  an  habitual  hearer,  who  had  just  been,  in  answer 
to  inquiry,  giving  me  the  assistant's  name.  "  I  could  not,"  I 
replied.  "  No  more  could  I,"  said  she.  Our  failure  was 
from  no  lack  of  evident  conscientious  effort  on  the  part  of 
the  speaker  to  make  himself  heard.  But  when  Charles's 
time  came,  he  made  no  effort  apparently,  and  we  heard  him 
as  easily  as  he  himself  seemed  to  speak.  It  was  on  his  part 
the  not  meritorious  perhaps,  but  delightful,  triumph  of  a 
natural  gift. 

There  is  no  harm,  now  at  least  that  a  stimulating  contrast 
may  at  the  same  time  be  noted,  in  telling  my  readers  that 
when,  in  1859,  I  first  met  Mr.  Spurgeon,  I  happened  to  be- 
come personal  witness  of  what  presented  him  in  the  character 
of  one  who  openly  drank  wine  upon  occasion.     In  the  draw- 


CHARLES  H ADDON  SPURGEON  183 

ing-room  to  which  he  retired  after  his  morning  sermon  in 
Surrey  Music  Hall,  and  in  which  I  was  invited  to  meet  him, 
a  gentleman,  deacon  of  the  church,  I  believe,  took  up  a  bottle 
of  wine,  with  a  glass,  and  asked :  "  A  little  more  port,  Mr. 
Spurgeon  ?  "  "  No,  thank  you,"  Mr.  Spurgeon  replied,  ad- 
ding humorously,  after  a  moment's  pause :  "  Now  pray  do 
not  hold  up  that  bottle  before  the  window,  for  the  people  out- 
side to  see  —  exciting  in  them  desires  which  you  very  well 
know  cannot  be  gratified !  "  Mr.  Spurgeon's  example  and 
influence  were  then  felt  by  the  "  teetotalers  "  of  England  to 
be  heavily  against  them.  It  is  otherwise  now.  "  Is  it  true, 
Mr.  Spurgeon,  that  you  now  practice  total  abstinence?"  I 
asked  him.  "  Yes ;  I  have  drunk  nothing  for  six  or  eight 
years."  He  said,  also,  that  he  was  now  a  vegetarian  in  his 
diet.  He  appeared  to  me  full  of  vigor,  notwithstanding  his 
local  infirmities.  His  ill-health,  happily,  has  never  located 
itself  so  as  to  hinder  him  at  all  in  his  power  to  think  soundly 
and  clearly. 

Also,  neither  his  ill-health  nor  the  sharp  criticism  of  which 
his  course  of  action  as  to  the  Baptist  Union  has  made  him 
the  object,  nor  yet  both  of  these  together  have  prevailed  to 
change  in  the  least  the  sweetness  of  his  spirit  to  bitter  or 
sour.  He  talked  freely,  in  answer  to  questions  freely  pro- 
pounded, of  topics  and  persons  connected  with  this  contro- 
versy, but  he  said  nothing  that  was  not  wholesomely  kind  in 
tone.  He  seemed  to  feel  unshakenly  firm  in  his  position, 
but  he  abundantly  betrayed,  even  in  his  sermons  and  public 
prayers,  the  pain  that  it  gave  him  to  be  separate  from  his 
brethren  and  to  be  blamed  instead  of  praised.  Dr.  McLaren 
bore  witness  to  the  tender  afifectionateness  of  Mr,  Spurgeon's 
heart,  and  said  it  was  really  at  great  cost  of  sorrow  suffered 
in  the  sundering  of  ties,  that  Mr.  Spurgeon  was  conscien- 
tiously maintaining  his  present  stand.  Nobody,  Dr.  McLaren 
said,  doubted  the  purity  and  loyalty  of  his  controlling  motive, 


l84  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

and  nobody  loved  him  the  less  for  the  course  he  had  pursued, 
however  much  mistaken  in  it  some  might  think  him  to  be. 
Dr.  McLaren  said  this,  and  then,  with  characteristic  caution 
and  candor,  qualified  his  expression  a  little  to  admit  a  possi- 
ble exception  or  two  to  the  universality  of  his  statement  that 
"  nobody "  loved  Mr.  Spurgeon  the  less.  What,  however, 
concerns  me  chiefly  just  now  in  relation  to  the  matter  is  to 
record  the  clear  impression  I  took  that  Mr.  Spurgeon  remains 
to  this  present  quite  unchanged  to  harshness  in  his  temper, 
notwithstanding  his  grief  at  the  defection  of  some  from  the 
truth,  and  notwithstanding  his  keen  sense  of  the  hard  things 
that  have  been  said  of  him.  In  short,  this  strict  evangelical, 
this  stout  Calvinist,  this  strenuous  stander  for  the  old  ortho- 
doxy, is  personally  a  most  lovable  man.  He  holds  men  to 
him,  not  simply  by  strength,  but  also  by  gentleness,  of 
character. 

Old  readers  of  "  The  Independent,"  those  with  long  mem- 
ories, may,  some  of  them,  still  bear  in  mind  a  story  that, 
years  ago,  the  present  writer  told  in  these  columns  of  a  curi- 
ous incident  in  Mr.  Spurgeon's  preaching.  The  incident  was 
of  a  young  fellow  who  complained  to  me  that  the  great 
preacher  once  singled  him  out  in  the  Tabernacle  congrega- 
tion, and  pointed  the  discourse  at  him  individually,  with  offen- 
sive personality.  Of  course  I  did  not  credit  the  report,  tho 
I  could  not  doubt  that  it  was  honestly  given.  I  assumed  it 
as  certain  that  the  young  man  had  merely  taken  to  himself  in 
particular  what  the  preacher  had  meant  only  for  some  such 
imaginary  person  in  general.  But  when,  some  months  after, 
at  a  private  dinner-party  in  Paris,  I  repeated  the  story  as  a 
curiosity  of  mistaken  impression,  most  unexpectedly  a  gen- 
tleman present,  who  had  listened  to  my  narrative  with  ani- 
mated interest,  said :  "  But  that  young  man  was  not  mistaken*. 
What  he  related  took  place.  I  sat  near  him  and  witnessed  it 
all.     The  direction  of  the  discourse  to  him  was  obvious  and 


CHARLES  H ADDON  SPURGEON  185 

unmistakable.  Everybody  about  him  saw  it."  This  testi- 
mony seemed  to  settle  the  matter,  and  I  told  the  incident  in 
print,  with  circumstance,  accordingly.  The  account  was 
afterward  reported  in  the  newspapers  as  pronounced  untrue 
by  Mr.  Spurgeon.  I  availed  myself  of  the  opportunity  offered 
in  my  late  personal  interview  with  Mr.  Spurgeon  to  recall 
the  incident  and  to  ask  him  for  the  truth  of  the  matter.  He 
said  nothing  ever  occurred  in  his  preaching  like  such  a  con- 
scious personal  direction  of  discourse  to  an  individual  hearer. 
It  must,  he  said,  have  been  merely  the  curious  coincidence 
of  a  particular  fact  with  an  imaginary  description  drawn  by 
him  at  a  venture.  He  then  recounted  half  a  dozen  similar 
coincidences,  equally  remarkable,  that  had  happened  to  come 
to  his  knowledge.  In  one  case  he  had  said :  "  Yonder  sits 
a  man  on  the  right-hand  side  in  this  congregation  who 
brought  a  bottle  of  gin  with  him  in  his  pocket  when  he  came 
into  the  house."  And  the  preacher  then  had  proceeded  to 
address  this  hypothetical  person  in  a  strain  of  appeal  suited 
to  his  case.  A  man  came  to  Mr.  Spurgeon  afterward  and 
said :  "  How  did  you  know  I  brought  in  that  bottle  of  gin  ? 
It  is  true  I  had  just  been  buying  something  to  warm  me 
before  I  went  home,  when  the  crowd  of  people  pouring  in 
here  caught  me  and  swept  me  in,  too.  But  you  said  I  was 
on  the  right-hand  side.  There  you  got  it  wrong.  I  was  on 
the  left-hand  side."  Mr.  Spurgeon  smiled  and  said :  "  That 
depends  upon  how  you  put  it.  What  was  right-hand  to  me 
was,  of  course,  left-hand  to  you.  But  I  drew  my  bow  at  a 
venture.  It  was  the  Lord  who  brought  the  arrow  to  its 
mark."  Strange  to  say,  during  that  same  sermon,  there  sat 
on  the  other  side  of  the  congregation  a  second  man  with  a 
bottle  of  gin  in  his  pocket.  This  second  man  reckoned  right 
and  left  reversely  as  compared  with  the  first,  and  he  too  was 
answered  in  a  like  formula  of  explanation.  Mr.  Spurgeon 
said  both  these  men  were  converted  as  a  result  of  their  ex- 


l86  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

perience.  The  cumulation  of  instances  recounted  was  alone 
sufficient  to  make  my  case  not  in  itself  at  all  unlikely  to  have 
been  like  the  rest,  one  of  mere  coincidence;  while  Mr.  Spur- 
geon's  own  absolute  assertion  in  reference  to  his  practice  in 
the  pulpit  puts  the  point  beyond  question. 

Mr.  Spurgeon's  noble  frankness  and  simplicity  made  me 
feel  free  to  refer  with  him  to  a  late  very  extraordinary  per- 
sonal criticism  preached  and  published  by  Dr.  Joseph  Parker 
in  the  guise  of  a  sermon,  having  Mr.  Spurgeon  himself  for 
its  subject.  With  the  gentleness  of  magnanimity,  Mr.  Spur- 
geon remarked  that  he  was  glad  to  have  furnished  to  Dr. 
Parker  an  occasion  for  saying  anything  useful  to  his  congre- 
gation ;  but  evidently  the  example  was  not  one  to  be  followed. 
"  If  we  ministers,"  he  added,  with  the  best-natured  humor 
imaginable — "  if  we  ministers  should  take  to  preaching  upon 
one  another,  we  should  soon,  I  fear,  be  all  at  sixes  and  sevens 
among  ourselves."  Mr.  Spurgeon  said  more,  but  more  I 
should  do  wrong  to  repeat.  All  that  he  said,  and  every  trait 
of  his  manner  in  saying  it,  bore  exquisite  additional  testi- 
mony to  his  own  unalterable  sweetness  of  spirit. 

"  Mr.  Spurgeon  preaches  better  and  better  all  the  time," 
said  one  to  me  whom  I  happened  to  meet  on  the  way  to  the 
Metropolitan  Tabernacle.  This  was  a  woman  —  girl  I  might 
better  call  her,  she  was  so  young  —  evidently,  I  thought,  of 
the  select  servant  class,  well-bred,  serious,  intelligent.  "  Our 
pastor,  we  think,  is  constantly  improving  in  his  preaching," 
spontaneously  said  together  a  man  and  woman,  doubtless  hus- 
band and  wife,  who  sat  in  the  seat  behind  me  and  kindly  an- 
swered various  questions  that  I  asked. 

These  last  were,  as  I  judged,  comparatively  cultivated  peo- 
ple, representing,  therefore,  a  different  class  of  the  congrega- 
tion.   Happy  congregation!  happy  pastor! 

In  one  word,  the  chief  difiference  that  I  noted  between  the 
Mr.  Spurgeon  that  was  and  the  Mr.  Spurgeon  that  is,  consists 


CHARLES  H ADDON  SPURGEON  187 

in  this,  that  a  noble  fruit  has  been  ripening,  mellowing, 
sweetening,  twenty-nine  years.  If  it  please  the  Heavenly 
Wisdom,  twenty-nine  years  more  of  the  same  gracious  process 
may  easily  intervene  before  the  hand  of  the  Husbandman 
shall  finally  gather  him  home. 

So  far  the  "  Independent "  article  of  sixteen  years  ago.  It 
was  only  about  two  years  subsequently  that,  to  the  same 
newspaper,  at  the  request  of  the  editor,  I  furnished,  with 
pain  and  pleasure  strangely  blended,  an  article  about  Spur- 
geon  deceased.  That  article  will  be  found  subjoined  as  a 
kind  of  summary  and  supplement,  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
original  criticism  now  following. 


CHARLES  HADDON  SPURGEON 

Of  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  the  reader  may  remember,  I 
said :  "  The  greatest  pulpit  orator  that  the  world  ever  saw  — 
who  might  also  have  been  the  greatest  preacher."  The 
terms  of  this  sentence  I  might  almost  precisely  invert  to  say 
now  of  Charles  Haddon  Spurgeon :  "  The  greatest  preacher 
that  the  world  ever  saw  —  who  might  have  been  one  of  the 
greatest  orators." 

I,  indeed,  feel  ready  to  express  the  deliberate  opinion  that, 
taken  on  the  whole,  Mr.  Spurgeon  must  rank  as  not  second 
to  any  preacher  whatever  in  the  long  history  of  Christian 
preaching.  The  question  is  not  a  question  of  original  and 
creative  genius;  it  is  not  a  question  of  the  production  of  a 
few  great  masterpieces  of  pulpit  eloquence ;  it  is  not  a  ques- 
tion of  brilliant  rhetorical,  of  imperial  imaginative,  gifts ;  it 
is  not  a  question  of  overpowering  immediate  effects,  brought 
about,  perhaps,  by  happy  capture  of  occasion,  or  by  rare  his- 
trionic power  in  delivery.  In  the  several  respects  thus  sug- 
gested, many  other  men  have  been  equal,  some  men  have  been 
superior,  to  Mr.  Spurgeon ;  but  who  else  ever  began  so  early 
in  life  as  he,  and  continued,  without  intermission,  so  long, 
to  turn  out  sermons  so  good  as  his?  [This  question,  let  it 
be  borne  in  mind,  was  asked  while  Mr.  Spurgeon  was  still 
living  and  still  producing  sermons.  Now,  Alexander  Mc- 
Laren, since  he  has  so  long  survived  Mr.  Spurgeon,. continu- 
ing uninterruptedly  his  preaching  career,  might  fairly  be 
considered  a  parallel ;  but  if  there  is  any  other  parallel,  then 
I  confess  my  ignorance,  for  I  do  not  know  of  any  other.] 
Think  of  it.  You  can  count  up  your  thousands  of  Mr. 
Spurgeon's  printed  sermons.  What  fecundity!  Put  these 
into  volumes  of  the  size  of  Mr.  Phillips  Brooks's  last  collec- 
tion, that  entitled  "  Twenty  Sermons,"  and  you  have  a  tale  of 

i88 


CHARLES  H ADDON  SPURGEON  189 

some  one  hundred  substantial  books !  And  the  market  of  the 
world  itill  unabatedly  hungry  for  further  supply  from  the 
same  redounding  source !  For  the  space  of  one  whole  human 
generation,  the  production,  with  the  issue,  of  these  discourses, 
has  gone  on  —  and  the  producer  yet  a  comparatively  young 
man  of  only  fifty-three  years  of  age !  We  need  not  draw  on 
the  "  hope  of  unaccomplished  years  "  to  say  that  here  is  a 
phenomenon  to  which  the  whole  past  history  of  the  Christian 
pulpit  scarcely  furnishes  a  parallel.  Twenty-five  years  still 
to  follow  of  this  prodigious  productiveness  is  not  too  much  to 
hope  for  —  and  at  the  end  of  that  period,  what  an  accumu- 
lated visible  result  in  print  of  one  man's  labor  in  the  preach- 
ing of  the  Gospel  of  Christ !  Two  hundred  good-sized  vol- 
umes of  sermons  the  offspring  of  a  single  brain !  How  will 
Voltaire's  miraculous  less  than  one  hundred  tomes  of  col- 
lected works,  eked  out  with  innumerable  odds  and  ends  of 
letters,  dwindle  in  the  comparison  of  count,  of  volume,  and, 
why  should  we  fear  to  add,  of  weight  and  value ! 

This  suggestion  of  literary  parallel  reminds  one  that  Mr. 
Spurgeon  is  author  as  well  as  preacher.  Already,  in  fact, 
apart  from  sermons,  he  has  written  books  enough  to  bear, 
in  bulk,  no  insignificant  relation  to  Voltaire's  long-won- 
dered-at  voluminous  production.  And  what  a  man  of  affairs 
Mr.  Spurgeon  has  been  besides !  If  he  had  written  nothing 
and  preached  nothing,  but  had  only  created  and  organized 
the  beneficent  institutions  that  have,  so  to  speak,  spon- 
taneously sprung  up  at  the  signal  of  the  sound  of  his  feet  as 
he  passed  along  —  these  alone  would  have  been  considered, 
and  would  have  seemed  worthy  to  be  considered,  not  simply 
an  adequate,  but  a  remarkable,  account  to  render  of  the 
sustained  and  continuous  efifort  of  a  long  lifetime.  I  must 
not  be  diverted  to  expatiate  here  on  Mr.  Spurgeon  the  man ; 
for  it  is  of  the  preacher  Mr.  Spurgeon  that  I  am  properly 
limited  to  speaking.  But  that  the  preacher  whom  we  study 
is  such  a  man  as  he  is,  it  would  be  mere  blindered  narrow- 
ness not  at  least  incidentally  to  remember  —  a  man,  namely, 
who,  in  point  of  breadth,  of  depth,  of  intensity,  and  of  prob- 


1 90 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


able  duration,  of  influence  for  good  to  the  human  race,  is 
not  surpassed,  perhaps  not  equaled,  by  any  peer  of  his 
belonging  to  his  own  generation. 

You  must  judge  sermons  as  sermons.  What  are  sermons? 
They  are  popular  harangues  or  addresses,  having  it  for  their 
object  to  make  Christians,  or  to  make  better  Christians,  of 
their  hearers  or  readers.  That,  nothing  more,  nothing  less, 
nothing  else,  is  what  sermons  are.  That  is,  true  sermons, 
ideal  sermons,  sermons  accordant  with  the  Scripture  con- 
ception of  preaching.  Apply  this  standard  of  judgment,  and 
where  will  you  find  a  body  of  sermons  better  than  Mr.  Spur- 
geon's?  Where  will  you  find  so  large  a  body  of  sermons, 
proceeding  from  a  single  man,  so  good?  Power  of  original 
delivery  being  taken  into  the  account,  is  not  Mr.  Spurgeon 
the  foremost  of  preachers?  Multiply  his  quality  by  his 
quantity,  and  your  product,  raised  to  the  nth  power  by  the 
first  eloquent  utterance  —  where  else  will  you  equal  it  among 
the  Christian  preachers  of  all  races  and  all  ages?  Nowhere, 
I  think.  But  the  quantity  is  a  factor  of  which  I  make  much, 
in  saying  this.  The  quality  —  when  you  appraise  it  by  the 
right  standard  —  is  good,  is  excellent;  but  the  quantity  is 
immense,  is  overwhelming. 

You  must  not  look  for  mere  elegance  of  style.  You  must 
not  look  for  clairvoyant  psychologic  intuition,  for  fruitful 
philosophic  analysis.  You  must  not  look  for  originality  and 
suggestiveness  of  thought.  You  must  not  look  for  elabor- 
ate and  artful  climaxes,  for  passages  of  imaginative  splen- 
dor, for  bursts  of  passionate  ecstasy.  None  of  these  things. 
You  must  look  for  straightforward,  clear,  plain,  strong, 
telling  utterance,  such  as  brings  truth  home  to  the  average 
man's  "  business  and  bosom."  You  must  look  for  order  and 
arrangement,  effective,  rather  than  gratifying  to  the  sense 
of  ideal  perfection  in  form.  You  must  look  for  those 
great  commonplaces  of  truth  which  are  justly  the  staple 
of  all  right  preaching.  You  must  look  for  illustration  apt 
rather  than  esthetically  beautiful,  for  lively  presentation  to 
the  understanding  of  ordinary  men,  for  pungent  application 


CHARLES  HAD  DON  SPUKGEON  191 

to  the  conscience,  for  practical  application  to  the  will.  Look 
for  these  things,  and  you  will  seldom  look  in  vain  in  Mr. 
Spurgeon's  preaching. 

Power  of  expression  as  completely  commensurate  with  the 
thought  to  be  expressed,  as  was  Mr.  Beecher's,  thought,  too, 
in  supply  equally  unfailing,  belongs  to  Mr.  Spurgeon.  The 
difference  at  this  point  between  the  two  men  is  that  Mr. 
Spurgeon's  thought  is  more  commonplace,  and  that,  there- 
fore, a  more  commonplace  expression  serves  him.  Mr. 
Spurgeon  has  no  fine-spun  sentiment,  no  poetic  reveries,  to  V 
find  words  for.  He  does  not  need,  so  much  as  did,  for  in- 
stance, Mr.  Beecher,  to  call  in  the  aid  of  the  imagination. 
But  why  disguise  the  fact?  Mr.  Spurgeon  evidently  pos- 
sesses no  such  supreme  imagination  as  was  that  great  gift 
which  made  Mr.  Beecher  the  magnificent  poet  in  oratory  that 
he  was.  Mr.  Spurgeon  travels  stoutly  on  foot,  whereas  it 
was  Mr.  Beecher's  to  "  turn  and  wind  a  fiery  Pegasus." 
Mr.  Spurgeon,  accordingly,  does  not  venture  at  all  into  those 
empyreal  regions  of  thought  and  of  fancy  to  which  Mr. 
Beecher  had  buoyancy  of  genius  enough  not  only  to  rise 
easily  and  familiarly  himself,  but  to  raise  his  hearers  also 
with  him  when  he  rose,  sustaining  them  there  as  long  as, 
on  any  occasion,  he  might  choose  to  keep  his  pinions  weighed 
and  spread.  Mr.  Spurgeon  is  as  strong  as  the  strongest  to 
climb,  but  he  is  no  eagle,  as  was  Mr.  Beecher,  to  soar.  He 
likes  to  keep  where  he  can  feel  the  solid  earth  under  his 
feet;  but  on  that  his  tread  is  the  tread  of  a  giant.  The  com- 
prehensive intellectual  difference,  in  short,  between  Mr. 
Spurgeon  and  Mr.  Beecher  is  exactly  the  difference  between 
a.  man  possessing  every  other  endowment  but  not  possessing 
genius,  and  a  man  superadding  genius  to  every  other  endow- 
ment. 

*But  if  genius  was  what,  in  Mr.  Beecher,  carried  over  self- 
confidence  into  audacity,  and  if  the  absence  of  genius  is  what 
keeps  self-confidence  from  becoming  audacity  in  Mr.  Spur- 
geon, then  to  Mr.  Spurgeon  the  withholding  of  genius  may 
be  considered  to  have  been  a  saving  and  beneficent  Provi- 


192 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


dential  denial,  as  truly  as  was  the  bestowment  of  genius  a 
fatal  gift  to  Mr.  Beecher. 

For  the  intellectual  audacity,  which  was  a  trait  of  Mr. 
Beecher,  is  contrasted  in  Mr.  Spurgeon  against  absolute 
intellectual  docility.  Not,  indeed,  docility  toward  men;  but 
docility  toward  God.  Toward  men,  Mr.  Spurgeon  bears 
himself  every  whit  as  lordly  and  as  free  as  did  ever  Mr. 
Beecher.  An  exemplification  of  this  is  the  great  preacher's 
frank,  outspoken  dissent  from  his  personal  and  political 
friend,  Mr.  Gladstone,  in  that  great  leader's  proposal  of 
home  rule  for  Ireland.  But  toward  God,  God  revealing  him- 
self in  his  word,  Mr.  Spurgeon  is  as  lowly  as  a  child.  His 
attitude  is  the  attitude  of  young  Samuel.  It  constantly 
says :  "  Speak,  Lord,  for  thy  servant  heareth."  The  con- 
trast of  Mr.  Spurgeon  to  Mr.  Beecher,  at  this  capital  point, 
is  as  intense  as  a  contrast  could  be.  "  Let  God  be  true  and 
every  man  a  liar,"  is,  as  it  were,  the  motto  and  the  watch- 
word of  Mr.  Spurgeon's  life. 

Count  out  Mr.  Beecher's  genius,  and  his  deficient  sub- 
ordination toward  God  (God  revealing  himself  in  his  Word), 
and  you  may  say  that  Mr.  Spurgeon's  equipment  is  otherwise 
substantially  the  same  as  was  the  great  Brooklyn  preacher's. 
There  is,  at  least,  the  same  infallible  common  sense;  infal- 
lible and  alert,  springing  sometimes  into  opportune  quick- 
ness of  wit,  or  playing  into  cheerful  sallies  of  humor. 

There  could  hardly  be  imagined  an  intellectual  diversion 
more  entertaining  than  it  would  be  to  have  witnessed  a 
public  encounter  between  these  two  men  in  discussion,  before 
a  popular  audience,  of  some  subject  which  engaged  them 
both  deeply,  and  on  which  they  entertained  differing  views. 
"  Is  it  not  true  that  Spurgeon  is  a  follower  of  Calvin?  And 
is  he  not  an  eminent  example  of  success  ?  "  was  asked  of 
Mr.  Beecher  at  Yale,  after  some  disparagement  from  the 
lecturer  of  Calvinism.  "  In  spite  of  it,  yes,"  replied  Mr. 
Beecher ;  "  but  I  do  not  know  that  the  camel  travels  any 
better,  or  is  any  more  useful  as  an  animal,  for  the  hump  on 
its  back."    "  Admirably  answered,"  probably  thought  many 


CHARLES  HADDON  SPURGEON 


193 


a  young  man  who  listened  to  this  smart  turn  of  the  lecturer. 
But  Mr.  Spurgeon  was  to  speak.  Commenting  on  Mr. 
Beecher's  most  unfortunate  illustration  (which  is  retained 
in  the  lectures  as  printed),  Mr.  Spurgeon  in  due  time  pointed 
out  that,  as  a  fact  of  animal  physiology,  the  hump  on  the 
camel's  back  was  a  wise  and  indispensable  provision  of 
nature  for  making  the  wearer  capable  of  his  great  endurance. 
The  hump,  instead  of  being  an  excrescence  only  contribut- 
ing ugliness  to  the  camel's  appearance,  was  as  a  breast  of 
nourishment  to  maintain  the  camel's  strength.  Mr.  Beecher 
had  supplied  to  Mr.  Spurgeon's  hand  a  weapon  of  illustra- 
tion to  serve  for  his  own  easy  and  utter  discomfiture. 

Mr.  Spurgeon  is  a  Calvinist,  and  he  preaches  Calvinism. 
But  it  is  Calvinism  of  a  moderate  type,  about  such  Calvin- 
ism as  Andrew  Fuller  expounded ;  and  it  is  not  as  Calvinism 
that  Mr.  Spurgeon  preaches  it,  but  as  the  teaching  of  Christ 
and  of  Paul.  This  Calvinistic  orthodoxy  the  preacher  hugs 
to  his  heart,  feeding  from  it  as  the  camel  feeds  from  his 
hump.  He  thinks  of  it  neither  as  beauty  nor  as  deformity, 
but  only  as  truth.  The  "  new  theology  "  finds  no  favor  in 
Mr.  Spurgeon's  eyes.  He  spurns  it,  tramples  on  it.  In  his 
monthly  magazine,  "  The  Sword  and  the  Trowel,"  he  thus 
summarily  characterizes  a  certain  American  book,  one  of  the 
authorities  of  the  "  new  theology  " : 

"  Some  300  pages  of  sublime  balderdash,  and  there  was  no 
earthly  reason  why  its  author  should  not  have  made  them  3,000. 
You  have  nothing  to  do  but  muddle  your  brain  and  set  your 
tongue  going,  and  the  result  is  unbounded  nothing  in  big  words."' 

Does  this  seem  brutal?  Does  it  look  like  mere  blind 
bigotry?  Well,  it  is  not.  For,  at  not  far  from  the  same 
date,  Mr.  Spurgeon  holds,  of  "  Ecce  Homo,"  a  highly  un- 
orthodox book,  the  following  language : 

"  We  shall  never  forget  the  day  in  which  we  fell  in  with 
'  Ecce  Homo.'  We  were  starting  for  York,  and  we  opened  the 
book  as  we  left  the  London  terminus.     How  the  train  proceeded, 

M 


194 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


and  at  what  stations  we  stopped,  we  never  knew.  Having  taken 
one  plunge  into  the  depths  of  the  book,  we  only  rose  out  of 
them  to  consciousness  when  the  northern  city  was  reached.  The 
memory  is  sweet  to  us." 

That  I  submit  is  not  the  language  of  a  blind  orthodox  bigot. 
Surely  there  is  "  sweetness  and  light "  in  such  a  spirit  as 
speaks  there.  Mr.  Spurgeon  declared  that  all  depended  on 
who  was  the  writer  of  "  Ecce  Homo  " : 

"The  anonymous  book  was  specially  good  if  written  by  a 
candid  unbeliever,  and  singularly  traitorous  if  composed  by  a  pro- 
fessed Christian." 

What  Mr.  Spurgeon  cannot  abide  is  paltering  with  the  Word 
of  God  on  the  part  of  one  who  professedly  accepts  it  as  au- 
thority. This  it  is  that  draws  the  lightning  of  his  displeas- 
ure launched  in  disdainful  expressions  like  the  foregoing 
about  the  American  "  new  theology  "  book. 

A  square-toed,  flat-footed  believer  and  preacher  is  Mr. 
Spurgeon.  No  trimming  in  him.  No  attempted  mediation 
between  this  and  that.  No  capitulation  to  infidelity  effected 
under  the  form  of  seeking  new  modes  of  expression  for 
truth.  No  "  Sartor  Resartus  "  philosophy,  no  feint  of  merely 
changing  your  clothes  —  ostensibly  to  secure  a  better  fit, 
really  for  the  sake  of  coming  out  a  quite  new-fangled,  differ- 
ent man.  Mr.  Spurgeon  will  none  of  this.  The  talked-of 
evolution  and  transformation  of  the  church  of  Jesus  Christ, 
if  such  be  indeed  in  progress,  is  a  tidal  movement  that  at 
least  must  count  on  stemming  Mr.  Spurgeon's  influence  as  a 
stubborn  refluent  wave  of  opposition  to  be  first  overcome  be- 
fore the  predicted  consummation  is  finally  reached.  Mr. 
Beecher  was  full  easily  involved;  nay,  he  made  haste,  he 
would  be  first,  to  be  overwhelmed  by  it.  Mr.  Spurgeon 
stands  as  stoutly  resistant  as  ever.  He  thinks  evolutionism 
itself  —  evolutionism  such  as  was  Mr.  Beecher's  melancholy 
final  "  phase  of  faith  " —  to  be  but  an  eddy,  a  moment's  reces- 
sion, in  that  true  eternal  tide  which  he  feels  drawing  all 


CHARLES  HADDON  SPURGEON 


195 


things   obedient,    willingly   or   unwillingly,    to   the   personal 
reign  of  Jesus  Christ. 

What,  then,  is  the  analysis  of  this  great  preacher's  power? 

The  question  is  a  problem  much  like  the  problem  at- 
tacked by  Gibbon,  when  that  great  historian  undertook  to 
give  the  causes  for  the  early  spread  of  Christianity.  Let 
us  here  do  sincerely,  what  Gibbon  is  accused  of  insincerely 
doing,  take  for  granted  the  omnipotent  working  of  the  Spirit 
of  God,  and  then  reckon  as  well  as  we  can  the  things  sub- 
ordinate to  that  which  together  make  up  the  indivisible 
total  sum  of  Mr.  Spurgeon's  amazing  power. 

Hear  him  preach.  You  have  before  you  a  by  no  means 
impressive-looking,  nay,  a  quite  undistinguished-looking, 
man.  Knowing,  let  us  suppose,  nothing  of  the  preacher's 
previous  history,  and  not  observing  the  present  spectacle  of 
the  magnificent  audience  assembled  —  in  short,  simply  re- 
garding the  man  visible  to  the  eye,  you  acknowledge  no 
spell  of  influence  proceeding  from  him  to  make  you  feel 
beforehand  that  you  are  a  predestined  captive  to  his  tongue. 

But  he  speaks.  That  voice !  It  is  like  a  flute,  like  a 
silver  bell,  like  a  trumpet,  like  an  organ.  What  an  instru- 
ment of  speech  !  The  pathos  in  it  wins  you,  the  clearness 
of  it  captivates  you,  the  soundness  of  it  satisfies  you,  the 
music  of  it  enchants  you,  the  power  of  it  subdues  you,  over- 
whelms, enthralls.  The  ear's  surprise,  delight,  and  triumph 
more  than  make  up  any  disappointment  to  the  eye.  Mr. 
Spurgeon  is  far  from  being,  on  all  occasions,  uniformly 
equal  to  himself  rated  at  his  own  best;  but  whatever  else 
may  fail  him,  his  voice  is  sure  to  be  a  great  resource. 

Years  ago  it  happened  to  the  present  writer  to  hear  Mr. 
Spurgeon  preach  a  sermon  on  the  cry  of  blind  Bartimeus. 
The  sermon  was  but  an  ordinary  one.  The  preacher  seemed 
to  labor  like  a  ship  half  water-logged.  But  the  voice  re- 
deemed the  effect.  At  one  point  —  it  was  a  passage  of 
realistic  description  designed  to  depicture  the  scene  and  the 
occasion  of  the  text  —  Mr.  Spurgeon,  interspersing,  after 
each  new  return,  on  his  part,  to  the  words  of  the  blind  man's 


196  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

appeal,  some  sentences  of  remark,  repeated  at  intervals 
again  and  again  the  cry,  "Jesus,  thou  Son  of  David,  have 
mercy  on  me."  The  impression  throughout  depended  vs^hoUy 
on  the  voice.  Would  the  voice  respond,  v^rith  endless  incre- 
ments of  pov^er,  to  its  owner's  remorseless  demands?  I 
wondered  and  watched  with  sympathetic  anxiety.  It  seemed 
reckless  in  the  preacher  to  risk  himself  so.  After  two  or 
three  successful  experiments,  on  his  part,  I  expected,  with 
each  succeeding  repetition  of  those  words,  to  hear  the 
preacher's  voice  break  and  fail.  I  might  as  well  appre- 
hensively expect  to  see  the  Atlantic  give  out,  when  a  storm 
was  wreaking  it  wave  after  wave  on  a  shore.  Six  times, 
I  should  think,  by  count,  the  repetitions  rose  one  upon  an- 
other in  volume  or  in  pitch,  and  the  voice  was  as  clear,  as 
firm,  as  apparently  unstrained,  at  the  last  as  at  the  first. 
And  I  had  needlessly  been  saying  with  myself,  a  number  of 
times,  "  Now,  pray,  do  not  try  that  again.  The  human  voice 
can  no  further  go." 

Such  is  Mr.  Spurgeon's  voice.  The  farthest  hearer  can 
hear  with  ease  and  pleasure,  while  not  even  the  nearest 
hearer  is  discomforted  with  noise. 

The  next  thing  to  strike  the  observant  and  thoughtful 
listener  is  the  unfailing  flow  and  the  pellucid  strain  of  Mr. 
Spurgeon's  diction.  The  absolute  ease  of  the  vocal  delivery 
is  completely  matched  by  an  absolute  ease  in  the  mental 
supply.  You  seem  to  see  a  "  long  bright  river "  of  silver 
speech  unwound,  evenly  and  endlessly,  like  a  ribbon  from  a 
revolving  spool  that  should  fill  itself  as  fast  as  it  emptied 
itself.  The  quality  of  the  words  is,  in  general,  as  pure  as 
the  volume  of  them  is  copious.  Occasionally,  a  word  not 
up  to  the  standard  of  good  taste  may  escape;  occasionally, 
a  word  chosen  for  its  sound  rather  than  for  its  exact  aptness 
to .  the  sense  —  the  speaker's  fancy  caught,  or  the  speaker 
trusting  that  his  hearer's  fancy  will  be  caught,  by  an  allitera- 
tion or  an  assonance  —  but,  for  the  most  part, "Mr.  Spur- 
geon's diction  is  a  true  "  well  of  English  undefyled." 

The  syntax  is  as  noteworthy  as  is  the  vocabulary.    There 


CHARLES  HADDON  SPURGEON 


197 


are  no  tangles  of  construction.  There  are  no  long  suspen- 
sions of  sense.  There  are  no  harsh  inversions  of  order. 
There  are  no  laborious  ambitions  of  climax.  The  sentences 
are  short  and  direct.  They  go  straight  on  their  way  to  their 
goal.  Following  one  of  them  is  like  watching  the  flight  of 
an  arrow  to  its  mark. 

Presently  you  rouse  yourself  to  consider,  "  Is  there  ade- 
quate thought  represented  by  all  this  affluence  of  words,  by 
all  this  manifold  facile  construction  of  sentences?  The  dis- 
course goes  on,  true,  but  does  it  go  on  saying  something?" 
You  notice  carefully  and  you  are  reassured.  You  perceive 
that  there  is  always  meaning,  and  always  worthy  meaning, 
conveyed.  The  thought  is  not  often  new,  not  often  start- 
ling, not  often  profound;  but  there  is  thought,  just  thought, 
wholesome  thought,  useful  thought.  Mr.  Spurgeon  is  not 
a  great  thinker,  thinking  in  public  aloud.  He  does  not 
make  an  enlarged  minister's-study  of  his  auditorium,  and 
take  his  congregation  into  the  confidence  of  his  private 
intellectual  activities.  To  enter  his  pulpit,  or  rather  to  go 
upon  his  platform,  he  leaves  his  study  behind  him,  with  all 
its  methods  and  all  its  processes,  and  comes  forth,  a  man 
among  men,  to  communicate  his  results  in  language  that 
common  people  cannot  fail  to  understand,  because  in  lan- 
guage taken  out  of  the  common  people's  mouths. 

The  element  of  appositeness  is  likely  to  be  present  with 
strength,  in  a  sermon  of  Mr.  Spurgeon's.  This  great 
preacher  knows  his  occasion,  and  he  meets  it  with  in- 
stinctive and  with  conscientious  self-adjustment.  I  shall 
never  forget  an  example  of  this  that  it  was  my  own  good 
fortune  to  witness. 

The  second  great  World's  Fair  in  London  had  just  been 
opened.  The  metropolis  was  thronged  with  strangers,  and 
all  men's  minds  were  full  of  the  great  exhibition.  Mr. 
Spurgeon  took  for  his  text  that  passage  of  Ephesians, 
"  That  now  unto  the  principalities  and  powers  in  heavenly 
places  might  be  known  by  the  church  the  manifold  wisdom 
of  God."     He  began  by  remarking  on  the  vast  frequence 


198  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

of  people  present  in  the  city  from  all  over  the  world  to  at- 
tend the  great  exhibition  just  opened.  Their  object  —  what 
was  it  but  to  survey,  in  many  forms,  the  triumphs  of  hu- 
man contrivance,  the  manifold  wisdom  of  man?  But  there 
was,  the  preacher  said,  a  more  glorious  exhibition  in  prog- 
ress. To  it,  through  the  long  corridors  of  the  ages,  angelic 
intelligences,  the  principalities  and  powers  in  heavenly 
places,  were  thronging.  These  spectators  came  that  they 
might  behold  and  study  in  "  the  church  the  manifold  wisdom 
of  God."  I  never  heard  an  apter,  or  more  impressive,  in- 
troduction. The  effect  was  brilliant  in  oratory,  but,  what 
was  far  better,  it  was  profoundly,  soberingly,  religious.  The 
sermon  that  followed  sustained  the  promise  of  the  exordium. 
It  was  truly  majestic.  The  Mr.  Spurgeon  whom  I  had 
heard,  perhaps,  half  a  dozen  times  before,  was  transfigured 
that  day  into  the  glory  of  a  prophet.  How  much  was  due 
to  the  occasion?  Much,  doubtless;  but  nothing  whatever 
would  have  been  due  to  the  occasion,  if  the  preacher  had 
not  made  use  of  the  occasion.  Let  me  correct  myself,  then, 
and  say  that,  in  strictness,  nothing  whatever  was  due  to  the 
occasion,  but  all  to  wise  use  of  the  occasion. 

It  is  worth  separate  and  emphatic  remark  that  the  open- 
ing services  on  the  occasion  referred  to,  signally  prepared 
for  the  powerful  effect  of  the  sermon.  Indeed,  Mr.  Spur- 
geon's  opening  services  in  general  are  quite  as  remarkable 
as  the  sermon  that  follows.  Life  tingles  through  them  all 
^  like  blood  leaping  along  the  veins;  rather,  like  blood  cir- 
culating everywhere  through  the  body.  The  invocation, 
the  announcement  of  the  hymn,  the  Scripture-reading,  with 
the  brief,  pithy  comment  accompanying,  the  prayer  —  in 
all  these  the  preacher  offers  up  his  life  not  less  truly  than 
he  does  in  his  sermon.  They  are  not  mere  scaffolding  to 
the  sermon;  they  and  the  sermon  together  constitute  one 
noble  edifice,  in  which  the  sermon  may  be  the  largest,  but 
in  which  it  is  scarcely  otherwise  the  most  honored,  stone. 
Another  characteristic  of  Mr.  Spurgeon's  preaching  is 
sustained  evenness  of  pitch.    There  are  comparatively  few 


CHARLES  HADDON  SPURGEON 


199 


violent  changes  of  feeling  in  one  of  his  sermons.  He 
may  now  move  you  almost  to  smile,  and  now  open  in  you 
the  sluices  of  tears,  but  you  will  not  experience  within 
yourself  anything  in  the  nature  of  an  abrupt  transition. 
With  Mr.  Beecher,  in  preaching,  the  weather  was  often  that 
of  a  changeful  summer  afternoon.  The  sun  would  cheer- 
fully shine;  anon  the  clouds  would  gather,  the  wind  would 
rise,  the  thunder  would  roll,  the  lightning  would  flash, 
the  rain  would  pour  down;  presently  the  clouds  would  part 
again  and  the  sun,  looking  forth,  would  light  up  the  face 
of  nature,  and  give  it  an  aspect  as  of  one  smiling  through 
tears.  And  then,  perhaps,  a  like  succession  of  changes  once 
more.  Mr.  Spurgeon's  weather  is  more  steady.  It  either 
changes  little,  or  it  changes  by  gentle  degrees.  No  wilful, 
wayward  Prospero  is  Mr.  Spurgeon,  to  play  with  the  ele- 
ments, and  conjure  tempest.  You  do  not,  hearing  him, 
feel  yourself  in  the  presence  of  incalculable,  mysterious, 
as  it  were  magical,  power.  The  kind  of  influence  you  are 
under  seems  to  you  intelligible  enough.  The  quantity  of  the 
influence  —  that  is  what  overwhelms  you.  You  are  simply 
overborne  by  force  like  your  own  force,  but  force  more 
and  heavier  than  you  could  have  mustered,  or  than  you  can 
now  resist.  And  there  was  plenty  of  reserve  behind,  had 
more  force  been  needed. 

A  further  thing  which  you  observe  upon  reflection,  is  that 
Mr.  Spurgeon's  plan  of  discourse  seldom  unfolds  and  grows 
like  a  plant  from  a  seed,  and  seldom  tends  progressively  to 
cumulation  of  single  conclusive  effect.  His  strength  is 
mere  main  strength,  and  not  strength  multiplied  by  momen- 
tum amassed  through  motion,  momentum  discharged  at  last 
in  one  tremendous  blow. 

Here  is  the  plan  or  order  of  a  late  discourse  of  Mr.  Spur- 
geon's—  one  delivered  on  occasion  of  the  Queen's  semi- 
centennial jubilee.  The  title  is,  "  Jubilee  Joy."  The  text 
is,  "  Let  the  children  of  Zion  be  joyful  in  their  King."  The 
introduction  consists  of  an  affectionately  loyal  tribute  to 
the  British  sovereign,  merging  by  transition  into  exhorta- 


200  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

tion  to  rejoice  in  the  heavenly  King.  Admirable  in  judg- 
ment, taste  and  spirit.  Then  follow  these  points,  success- 
ively treated: 

I.    Let  us  begin  by  feeling  that  the  Lord  Jesus  is 
OUR  King. 

IL    Let  us  go  on  to  study  his  royal  character. 

in.  Let  us  be  joyful  in  the  continuance  of  our  Re- 
deemer's reign. 

IV.    Being  joyful  in  our  King,  let  us  obey  him  with 

DELIGHT. 

Evidently,  in  such  a  plan  as  that,  there  is  no  striking 
intellectual  merit  to  be  found.  Only  a  master  in  the  art 
of  expansion  or  amplification  could  make  anything  of  it  in 
preaching.  To  say  truth,  the  sermon  is  little  more  than  one 
continued  exhortation.  It  is  Mr.  Spurgeon's  unrivaled 
command  of  expression  that  carries  it  off  with  the  hearer. 
"  It  is  time  to  finish,"  the  preacher  says,  in  conclusion ;  he 
has  reached  the  end  of  his  "  time " —  that,  rather  than 
the  end  of  any  argument  or  discussion. 

In  short,  Mr.  Spurgeon  is  a  great  preacher,  rather  than 
a  preacher  of  great  sermons.  If  this  is  not  praise,  it  cer- 
tainly is  not  dispraise.  To  preach  great  sermons  is,  no 
doubt,  the  prouder  intellectual  triumph;  but  the  more  use- 
ful service,  and  the  rarer  moral  attainment,  is  to  be  a  great 
preacher.  To  do  both  is,  perhaps,  more  than  is  ever  given 
to  one  man.  At  least  to  produce  continuously  for  thirty- 
three  years  at  the  numerical  rate  maintained  by  Mr.  Spur- 
geon, hardly  admits  of  also  producing,  even  occasionally, 
on  a  scale  of  intellectual  grandeur  such  as  was  exemplified 
in  Bossuet  or  in  Robert  Hall.  But  probably  Mr.  Spurgeon's 
original  endowment,  necessarily  having  somewhere  its  im- 
passable limits,  had  these  in  the  line  of  superlative  intel- 
lectual quality. 

Running  back  and  forth,  in  studious  observation,  between 
the  matter  and  the  manner  in  Mr.  Spurgeon,  you  become 
aware  that,  in  consonance  with  the  comparatively  equable 
tenor   of   his   discourse   itself,   considered   as   thought,   this 


CHARLES  HADDON  SPURGEON  201 

preacher  is  scarcely  at  all  an  actor,  but  almost  purely  an 
orator,  in  his  style  of  delivery.  Here  is  one  more  point 
of  sharp  contrast  between  him  and  Mr.  Beecher.  In  Mr. 
Beecher  the  histrionic,  the  mimetic,  instinct  was  irresist- 
ibly strong.  One  of  that  preacher's  more  characteristic 
sermons  would  be  well-nigh  as  much  a  spectacle  as  it  was 
an  harangue.  The  eye  was  hardly  less  entertained  than  was 
the  ear.  Partly  for  this  reason,  and  partly  for  the  reason 
that  Mr.  Beecher's  idea  of  preaching  permitted  him  to'  in- 
troduce all  sorts  of  matter  the  most  unusual  into  his  pulpit 
addresses,  his  Sunday  services  often  were  such  that  frivol- 
ous people  were  tempted  to  pronounce  going  to  Plymouth 
Church  to  be  as  good  as  going  to  the  theater.  For  neither 
of  these  two  reasons  would  the  like  ever  be  said  respecting 
attendance  at  the  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  in  London. 
There  is  no  journalistic  element  in  Mr.  Spurgeon's  preach- 
ing, and,  as  for  the  theatrical,  he  might  well  covet  a  greater 
share  than  apparently  he  possesses,  of  the  histrionic  capacity, 
to  supplement  and  reenforce  his  noble  oratoric  gift. 

One  passing  under  review  the  whole  cycle  of  Mr.  Spur- 
geon's intellectual  production  is  impressed  with  the  personal 
attribute  displayed  of  honest  industry  on  the  part  of  the 
author.  A  vast  amount  of  downright  hard  work  this  great- 
ly gifted  man  has  done.  He  has  not  tried  to  make  his  mill 
turn  out  grist  from  the  spout  without  his  having  previously 
poured  grist,  full  proportion,  into  the  hopper.  He  has 
never  committed  the  folly  of  pumping  himself,  or  draining 
himself,  dry.  He  has  kept  himself  full,  brimming,  and  has 
simply  —  overflowed.  This  is  the  secret  of  his  exhaustless 
production.  He  is  a  wide  and  various  reader.  He  knows 
much  of  the  best  that  has  been  written  in  the  world.  It  is 
not  an  ignorant  man  that  preaches  Mr.  Spurgeon's  sermons 
—  it  is  a  well-informed,  a  cultivated,  man.  The  sons  of  light 
only  show  their  own  narrowness  when  they  speak  of  Mr. 
Spurgeon  as  narrow.  And  the  ministers  who  think  Mr. 
Spurgeon  a  good  pattern  to  follow  in  the  matter  of  sim- 
plicity and  of  scripturalness  in  preaching,  would  do  well 


202  MASTERS  Of  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

to  emulate  him  also  in  the  enterprise  and  industry  of  his 
multifarious,  but  not  indiscriminate,  reading. 

Sincere,  practical,  working  conscientiousness  is  a  further 
trait  of  personal  character  in  Mr.  Spurgeon,  kindred  with 
his  trait  of  faithful  industry  just  noted.  This  led  him,  for 
instance,  a  few  years  ago  to  give  up,  on  principle,  the  use 
of  wine  and  beer  as  beverages.  I,  myself,  from  actual 
observation  on  the  spot,  well  remember  how  sore  an  ob- 
struction to  their  cause  the  "  teetotalers  "  of  England  used 
to  feel,  not  only  the  self-indulging  example,  but  the  out- 
spoken hostile  word  and  influence,  of  Mr.  Spurgeon  to  be. 
Now,  he  is  in  practice  a  "  total  abstainer "  himself,  and 
he  neglects  no  opportunity  to  give  impulse  to  the  move- 
ment for  total  abstinence  throughout  the  world.  He  tes- 
tifies to  the  increased  mental  freedom,  clearness,  and  force, 
enjoyed  by  him  since  this  change  in  his  habits. 

It  is  no  part,  ever,  of  any  servant's  privilege  to  praise  or 
to  blame,  as  by  authority,  a  fellow-servant.  To  his  own 
master  alone  each  one  of  us  must  stand  or  fall.  But  cer- 
tainly I  should  not  be  able,  on  challenge,  to  name  any  man 
in  history  who  seems  to  me  to  have  come  nearer  to  mak- 
ing, from  the  very  beginning,  the  most  that  was  possible 
of  himself,  and  to  doing  the  most  that  was  possible  with 
himself,  than  has  Charles  Haddon  Spurgeon.  He  pos- 
sesses in  full  measure  every  natural  qualification  for 
being  a  great  statesman  —  especially  that  capital  qualifica- 
tion, the  orator's  gift.  But  he  chose  wisely  to  be  a  preacher. 
To  be  the  greatest  of  preachers  is  greater  than  to  be  the 
greatest  of  orators.  Mr.  Spurgeon  is  now,  as  we  may  hope, 
little  more  than  midway  of  his  unretarded  career;  but  the 
stainless  past  makes  one  confident  in  rejoicing,  by  anachron- 
ism, already,  that  a  fame  so  splendid  was  also  a  fame  to  the 
end  so  fair. 

[In  writing  the  paper  now  to  follow  for  "  The  Independ- 
ent," I  yielded  to  the  urgent  request  of  the  editor.  But  I 
had  never  so  reluctantly  yielded  to  such  editorial  request 


CHARLES  HADDON  SPURGEON  203 

before.  I  sprang  joyfully,  indeed,  at  the  thought  of  paying 
grateful,  admiring,  and  affectionate  tribute  to  a  dear  and  hon- 
ored memory;  but  my  heart  was  too  heavy  with  grief  foi 
any  proper  buoyancy  of  mind.  A  great  light  had  gone  out  in 
the  sky,  and  I  seemed  to  feel,  in  something  more  than  my 
own  just  measure,  the  darkening  of  the  world.] 

How  well  I  remember  when  the  news  first  came  across 
the  Atlantic  —  it  must  have  been  about  the  year  1855  — 
that  a  young  preacher  in  London  was  renewing,  and  more 
than  renewing,  the  pulpit  triumphs  of  Whitefield  and  of 
Edward  Irving!  I  was  myself  at  that  time  still  a  student 
in  college,  and  this  young  preacher,  already  famous  by 
the  then  novel  name  of  Spurgeon,  was  only  of  an  age  about 
equal  to  my  own.  During  all  the  time  succeeding  until 
now,  a  period  beyond  the  space  of  a  human  generation,  Mr. 
Spurgeon  has  not  for  one  moment  intermitted  to  be  upon 
the  whole  the  most  popular,  and,  let  us  not  hesitate  to  say, 
the  greatest,  preacher  in  the  world.  It  is  a  long  term  of 
activity  and  of  world-wide  renown  that  Mr.  Spurgeon  has 
thus  been  permitted  to  fulfil.  But  he  has  fallen  in  the  very 
meridian  of  his  days,  and  his  career  seems  prematurely  cut 
short. 

In  boldly  pronouncing  Mr.  Spurgeon  the  greatest 
preacher  in  the  world,  of  his  time,  I  have  indeed  been  per- 
haps not  bold  enough.  It  is  not  unlikely  that,  if  all  the  just 
conditions  of  comparison  were  adequately  taken  into  ac- 
count, Mr.  Spurgeon  might  appear  to  be  conspicuously  the 
greatest  preacher  of  all  times  since  the  age  of  the  Apostles. 
However  this  may  be,  certain  it  is  that,  besides  being  fore- 
most among  his  peers  as  a  preacher,  this  prodigious  man 
has,  during  three  decades  of  years,  been  also  one  of  the 
most  fruitful  and  most  steadily  popular  of  authors.  When 
it  is  added,  that  he  has  exhibited  one  of  the  most  success- 
fully organific  minds,  one  of  the  most  stimulating  and  sus- 
taining forces  of  personal  character  anywhere  coevally  at 
play  among  men;  and  further,  beyond  all  this,  that  he  has 


204 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


meantime  been  distinctively  a  teacher  of  preachers,  past 
comparison  more  influential  than  any  single  one  of  his  fel- 
lows and  contemporaries  in  that  vocation,  something  like  a 
just  estimate  in  outline  has  been  projected  of  the  magni- 
tude of  w^hat  the  world  has  so  long  been  enjoying  in  Mr. 
Spurgeon,  and  of  what  it  has  now  lost  in  his  death.  Of 
course,  it  is  not  what  Mr.  Spurgeon  was,  that  I  mean  in 
speaking  of  the  loss  that  his  death  brings  to  the  world, 
for  what  Mr.  Spurgeon  was,  the  world  has  not  lost.  The 
past  at  least  is  secure,  and  that  is  immortal.  The  world 
has  lost  only  what  Mr.  Spurgeon  might  have  been  in  the 
many  unaccomplished  years,  the  hope  of  which  was,  until 
lately,  large  and  lucid  round  his  brow. 

I  have  implied  that  the  subject  of  this  paper  began  ex- 
traordinarily early  his  extraordinary  career.  But  the  defi- 
nite arithmetical  statement  is  far  more  impressive  than 
the  indefinite  rhetorical.  He  was  not  yet  twenty  years  of 
age  when  he  accepted  the  call  of  the  historic  New  Park 
Street  Baptist  Church  in  London  to  be  their  pastor.  That 
this  youth,  not  regularly  educated,  quite  innocent  of  taint 
from  college  culture  of  any  kind,  would  sustain  himself  as 
an  acknowledged  power,  in  the  metropolis  of  the  world, 
through  an  unbroken  period  of  almost  forty  years  —  who 
would  have  predicted  it?  But  such  a  prediction  would  have 
fallen  far  short  of  being  sufficiently  audacious;  and  the  ful- 
filment awaiting  was  not  merely  ample,  it  was  overflowing. 
The  whole  history  reads  like  a  romance. 

How  the  spirit  and  tradition  of  the  man  of  whom  I  am 
speaking  seems  graciously  to  rebuke  the  way  in  which  I 
have  laxly  allowed  myself  to  speak  of  him !  " '  Sustain 
himself !  ' "  I  hear  him  exclaiming.  "  Indeed,  I  did  not 
for  one  moment  sustain  myself.  Underneath,  all  the  time, 
was  the  Everlasting  Arm.  That  was  what  held  me  up.  I 
myself  did  nothing  but  fall  incessantly.  But  I  fell  upon 
support  that  would  not  let  me  be  quite  cast  down." 

This  was  Mr.  Spurgeon's  genuine  feeling  about  himself. 
His  sense  of  his  weakness  was,  in  large  part,  the  secret  of 


CHARLES  HADDON  SPURGEON  205 

his  strength.  And,  paradoxical  as  it  is  to  say  so,  his  weak- 
ness reached  perhaps  its  very  strongest  at  the  point  of  self- 
confidence.  For  he  was  an  exceptionally  self-confident  man. 
So  conspicuous,  indeed,  and  so  vivific,  was  this  element  in 
his  character,  that  a  hasty  analysis  might  well  have  pro- 
nounced it  the  true  spring  of  his  power.  It  would  have 
been  such,  in  a  worldly  Spurgeon  pursuing  a  worldly  ca- 
reer. It  might  even,  in  that  hypothetical  case,  have  pro- 
duced an  apparent  result  apparently  greater  than  the  one 
that  the  actual  Spurgeon  actually  accomplished.  But,  how- 
ever greater  in  seeming,  it  would  really  have  been  far  less. 
Whatever  part  in  the  total  sum  of  Spurgeon's  achievement 
is  justly  to  be  credited  to  his  own  personality  asserting  it- 
self beyond  due  bounds  in  the  spirit  of  self  confidence  nat- 
ural to  the  man,  should  be  subtracted  from,  not  reckoned 
in,  the  net,  enduring,  purified  fruit  of  his  life.  How  large 
that  part  is  I  shall  not  undertake  publicly  to  estimate.  In- 
deed, I  do  not  dare  to  estimate  it  privately.  The  thing 
significant  is,  that  the  quality  of  Mr.  Spurgeon's  work  was, 
on  the  whole,  as  transcendent  as  the  quantity  was  remark- 
able. The  quality  is,  therefore,  even  more  remarkable  than 
the  quantity.  Justly  appreciated,  it  serves  to  make  the 
quantity  itself  greater. 

The  new  Park  Street  pastor,  yet  in  his  teens,  had  to 
have  more  room  for  the  hearers  that  wanted  to  come.  The 
"  chapel "  was  enlarged.  The  enlarged  chapel  would  not 
hold  the  throngs  that  surged,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  at  the 
doors.  Resort  was  had  to  the  most  capacious  available 
audience  room  to  be  found  in  London.  This  was  the  Royal 
Surrey  Gardens  Music  Hall.  In  this  vast  room,  Mr.  Spur- 
geon, now  a  youth  of  twenty-two,  preached  to  audiences  not 
only  imposing  in  numbers,  but  imposing  also  often  in  the 
rank  and  renown  of  individual  hearers.  Church  of  Eng- 
land people,  who  could  not  go  to  hear  the  famous  sectary  in 
a  conventicle,  might  venture  to  allow  themselves  that  pleas- 
ure in  a  neutral  place  of  assembling  like  a  public  hall.  So, 
rank  and  title,  social  splendor,  and  splendor  of  civic  fame, 


2o6  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

flowed  into  Surrey   Gardens  to  listen  to  the  preaching  of 
Spurgeon. 

Of  course,  use  of  a  public  hall  could  be  only  a  temporary 
expedient  for  the  accommodation  of  a  regular  congrega- 
tion. It  was  resolved  to  build  a  meeting-house  unprece- 
dentedly  great.  There  had  been  a  man  found  who  could 
not  only  fill  such  a  place  with  hearers  but  could  also  fill  it 
with  sound,  from  the  clearest,  the  sweetest,  the  most  flex- 
ible, the  most  tunable,  the  most  various,  the  most  elastic,  the 
furthest-going,  the  most  inexhaustible,  voice  in  the  world. 
The  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  was  finished  in  1861,  with  a 
seating  capacity  which  reached  at  least  5,500,  supplemented 
by  standing  room  for  1,000  more,  thus  accommodating  in  all 
6,500  persons.  For  thirty  years  this  immense  auditorium 
has,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  been  filled  with  people.  Only  a 
few  months  ago  I  seated  myself  in  the  fringe  of  the  great 
congregation,  and  took  careful  note  of  two  things,  first, 
whether  I  could  hear  well  every  word,  and  secondly, 
whether  the  attendance  had  fallen  off  at  all  with  the  attri- 
tion of  years.  Yes,  I  could  hear;  no,  there  was  no  falling 
off;  the  Tabernacle  was  full.  It  was  an  ordinary  Sunday 
morning  occasion,  the  weather  unpropitious.  There  were 
no  persons  standing,  but  the  seats  were  all  occupied.  Alas, 
the  great  preacher  came  painfully  to  his  place  on  the  plat- 
form, leaning  upon  the  top  of  his  staff!  The  touchingness 
of  the  sight  was,  to  me,  no  insignificant  part  of  the  elo- 
quence. 

The  spiritual  fruitfulness  was,  from  the  first,  no  less 
remarkable  than  the  intellectual  triumph,  of  Mr.  Spurgeon's 
ministry.  Within  ten  years  from  the  commencement  of  his 
London  pastorate,  3,569  persons  had  been  baptized  into  the 
fellowship  of  the  church.  I  have  before  me,  as  I  write, 
an  authorized  statistical  table  of  figures  for  the  years  1861- 
1877,  This  exhibits  a  steady  annual  increase  of  numbers, 
an  increase  not  once  interrupted,  in  the  membership,  of  the 
church,  up  to  5,152  in  1877. 

While   such    fruit  was  being  gathered   under   the   sound 


CHARLES  IIADDON  SFURGEON  207 

of  the  preacher's  hving  voice,  a  result  not  incommensurate 
was  springing  from  the  printed  sermons  of  Mr.  Spurgeon. 
The  weekly  issue  of  these  began  in  1855.  It  has  continued 
without  intermission  ever  since.  [This  is  still  true  down  to 
the  present  moment,  1905.]  The  sale  has  for  many  years 
averaged  25,000  copies  for  every  sermon.  Mr.  Spurgeon's 
publishers  told  me  last  spring  that  that  was  their  regular 
edition  then.  And  this  takes  no  account  of  the  circulation 
of  the  sermons  through  the  innumerable  newspapers,  all 
over  the  English-speaking  world,  that  reprinted  them  week 
by  week.  Nearly  2,500  different  sermons  in  all  have  thus 
been  given  to  the  world  in  print,  from  the  brain  and  heart  of 
this  prolific  religious  genius.  There  is  nothing,  I  believe, 
in  human  history  to  parallel,  hardly  to  approximate,  such 
a  record.  But  the  most  noteworthy  thing  about  it  is  that 
Mr.  Spurgeon  was  constantly  receiving  from  all  over  the 
world  personal  or  documentary  evidence  of  conversions  re- 
ferred by  the  subject  to  the  influence  of  sermons  of  his  read 
by  them  in  print,  or  perhaps  heard  read  by  them  from 
print;  for  these  sermons  were,  in  many  scattered  places,  the 
Sunday  food  of  congregations  of  hearers. 

Particular  sermons  of  Mr.  Spurgeon's  became  exception- 
ally famous.  Of  these  the  most  memorable  was,  no  doubt, 
a  sermon  on  "  Baptismal  Regeneration,"  the  sale  of  which 
had,  many  years  ago,  reached  the  enormous  total  of  198,000 
copies.  This  discourse  occasioned  a  truly  extraordinary 
activity  of  tongue  and  pen  in  controversy.  More  than  a 
hundred  separate  publications,  mostly  pamphlets,  drawn 
out  by  Mr.  Spurgeon's  sermon,  were  actually  collected  with- 
in the  two  years  following,  and  these  are  said  to  be  now 
preserved  in  bound  volumes  belonging  to  the  Pastor's  Col- 
lege Library.  Not  a  few  other  sermons  of  his  have  sold  to 
the  number  of  100.000  copies. 

It  is  impracticable,  within  the  just  limits  of  a  paper  like 
this,  to  do  more  than  suggest  the  manifold  fruitful  activi- 
ties of  this  great  mind.  I  have  just  named  the  Pastor's 
College.    This  is  an  institution  founded  and  maintained  by 


2o8  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

Mr.  Spurgeon,  in  a  sense  more  full  than  that  in  which  any 
other  such  institution  ever  existing  could  truly  be  said  to 
have  been  founded  and  maintained  by  a  single  individual. 
It  has  educated  nearly  a  thousand  students.  The  education 
imparted  has  been  imperfect,  no  doubt,  and  many  intelligent 
friends  of  ministerial  training  have  thought  that  the  in- 
fluence of  the  Pastors'  College  told  povs^erfully  against,  as 
well  as  powerfully  for,  the  cause  it  ostensibly  served.  But 
what  an  illustration  the  history  of  that  seminary  constitutes 
of  the  rich  fecundity  of  the  organizing  genius  that  so  early 
as  the  year  1854  gave  it  birth ! 

The  Stockwell  Orphanage,  too,  dating  from  1866,  with 
which  Mr.  Spurgeon's  name  is  inseparably  associated  —  to 
have  been  the  means  of  establishing  and  wisely  administer- 
ing that,  would  by  itself  alone,  be  no  despicable  account  to 
be  able  to  give  of  the  conduct  of  a  life. 

A  still  different  form  of  benevolent  activity,  one  not  only 
Christian  but  distinctly  evangelic,  evangelistic  indeed,  was 
the  Colportage  Society,  founded  and  directed  by  Mr.  Spur- 
geon. This  institution,  too,  has  a  noteworthy  record  of  use- 
ful work  accomplished.  There  ought  perhaps  to  be  added 
mention  of  the  Book  Fund,  Mrs.  Spurgeon's  specialty, 
which,  for  many  years,  has  been  the  means  of  annually  dis- 
tributing a  large  number  of  printed  volumes  all  over  the 
three  kingdoms,  especially  among  ministers  who  otherwise 
would  have  lacked,  in  great  measure,  such  food  to  their 
minds. 

All  the  foregoing  examples  of  Mr.  Spurgeon's  fertility 
and  force  in  organization  and  administration  were  always 
vitally  related  to  a  later  important  direction  of  his  enter- 
prising mind,  of  which  I  have  hitherto  not  furnished  even  a 
hint.  I  refer  to  his  monthly  magazine,  "  The  Sword  and  the 
Trowel,"  started  in  1865.  Mr.  Spurgeon,  then,  was  editor, 
too,  as  well  as  preacher,  author,  teacher,  organizer. 

As  to  his  authorship,  the  list  of  his  books,  apart  from  his 
sermons,  is  very  long.  These  all  have  been  successful,  and 
some   of  them  have   been   extraordinarily   successful.     His 


CHARLES  HA^DON  SPURGEON  209 

"John  Plowman's  Talk,"  for  example,  sold,  within  three 
years  from  the  date  of  its  publication  in  book  form,  to  the 
number  of  110,000  copies. 

An  article  like  the  present  cannot  possibly  be  complete, 
but  it  must  necessarily  have  bounds.  When  I  have  added 
that  Mr.  Spurgeon  had  a  brother  James  (surviving  him), 
who  was  not  only  a  fellow  minister  of  the  Gospel,  but  in  a 
peculiarly  intimate  confidential  relation  partner  of  his  pas- 
toral labor,  and  had  two  sons,  twin-born,  Thomas  and 
Charles,  who  have  both  followed  their  father  in  his  office 
as  preacher,  I  shall  have  said  all  that  I  properly  can  h'ere 
say  in  the  way  of  irregular  biography.  Mr.  Spurgeon  was 
born  in  June,  1834,  and  was  therefore  fifty-seven  years  of 
age  when  he  died.  What  a  crowded  life  he  lived !  How 
he  made  the  atmosphere  far  and  wide  about  him  hum  with 
his  elemental  intellectual  activity !  What  a  silence,  what 
a  vacancy,  now  that  he  has  gone ! 

It  is  probably  safe  to  assume  that  the  peculiar  conditions 
that  have  surrounded  him,  in  the  religious  world  in  which 
he  lived  and  moved  and  had  his  being,  during  the  few  years 
last  past,  have  hastened  his  death.  I  refer,  of  course,  to  the 
far-renowned  "  Down-grade "  controversy,  so  called,  with 
its  accompanying  incidents.  No  one  that  does  not  know  the 
genial  affectionateness  of  Mr.  Spurgeon's  temper  and  his 
extreme  fondness  for  friendship  and  the  continuance  and 
fast  knitting  of  old  ties,  can  appreciate  the  cost  in  nerve 
and  heart  at  which  he  has,  during  these  many  months  of 
failing  bodily  health,  but  unfailing  mental  force,  maintained 
his  warfare  for  what  he  felt  to  be  the  imperiled  truths  of 
the  Bible.  Every  bond  that  snapped  between  him  and  a 
brother  minister,  especially  if  that  minister  were  to  him 
not  only  brother,  but,  as  it  were,  a  son,  that  is,  an  old 
student  of  his,  made  his  heart  bleed,  and  tapped  in  him  the 
very  fountain  of  life.  He  laded  himself  with  taskwork  in 
the  cause  of  Bible  truth,  till  the  ship  sank  almost  below  the 
water-line  —  quite  below  the  water-line  it  proved  at  last ! 
I  have  a  little  autograph  note  now  from  the  weary  hand, 
N 


2IO  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

written  in  the  mid-stress  of  preparation  for  the  last  spring's 
anniversary  of  his  college.  The  main  purport  of  it  was  to 
tell  how  he  staggered  under  the  load  he  was  carrying,  and 
how  he  dared  not  increase  it  by  so  much  as  a  penny-weight. 
It  was  pathetic  when  I  received  it  —  how  much  more  pa- 
thetic now ! 

The  dear,  great,  gentle,  lion  heart!  How  shall  I  com- 
pose myself  to  take  tranquil  account  of  the  elements  that 
made  up  such  a  nature? 
•  In  the  physical  man,  Mr.  Spurgeon's  voice  was  his  chief 
j  good  fortune  in  endowment.  But  that  good  fortune  would 
'  nigh  have  compensated  for  the  lack  of  every  other.  The 
wonder  of  Mr.  Spurgeon's  voice  grew  upon  me  the  more 
I  considered  it  and  compared  it.  He  used  it  without  any 
apparent  effort,  and  it  answered  every  purpose  of  his  will. 
In  its  utmost  violence  I  never  heard  from  it  one  note  that 
grated  harshly  on  the  ear.  It  was  virile,  but  it  hid  in  its 
virile  sweetness  an  effect  of  womanly  winningness  that  was 
almost  pathetic.  In  the  mere  matter  of  making  people  hear, 
Mr.  Spurgeon  accomplished  with  his  voice  feats  probably 
never  surpassed,  I  doubt  if  ever  equaled.  I  was  told,  and 
I  believe,  that  in  Agricultural  Hall,  in  London,  a  place  de- 
scribed as  being  like  uninclosed  space  for  vastness,  he  made 
himself  distinctly  audible  to  12,000  people.  His  voice,  when 
he  was  speaking  so  as  to  be  heard  by  such  a  number,  would 
be  no  less  agreeable  to  those  persons  nearest  him  than  to 
those  farthest  removed,  and  hardly  less  distinct  to  those 
farthest  removed  than  to  those  nearest.  It  was  an  instru- 
ment of  speech  that  either  needed  no  management,  or  was 
so  perfectly  managed  that  it  seemed  to  need  none.  It  was 
the  perfection  of  nature,  or  else  the  perfection  of  both 
nature  and  art. 

The  thing  most  obvious  and  most  striking  in  Mr.  Spur- 
geon's mental  endowment  was  his  preternatural  command  of 
language,  both  vocabulary  and  syntax.  For  simple,  lucid 
flow  of  appropriate  speech,  so  uninterrupted  and  so  easy 
that  it  seemed  like  lubricity  itself  become  vocal  and  expres- 


CHARLES  HADDON  SPURGEON  21 1 

sive,  I  never  heard  anything  anywhere  that  even  approached 
Mr.  Spurgeon's  habitual  discourse.  Mr.  Beecher  was  great 
at  this  point;  but  he  had  his  fits  of  greater  and  less,  was 
eruptive  sometimes,  explosive.  Mr.  Spurgeon  never  fal- 
tered. He  never  went  faster  than  he  wished  to,  for  fear 
that  if  he  went  slower  he  might  come  not  to  go  at  all. 
He  never  went  slow  because  he  could  not  go  faster.  The 
fountain  flowed  because  it  was  a  fountain,  and  the  nature 
of  a  fountain  is  to  flow.  Of  course  I  describe  what  ap- 
peared. Doubtless  Mr.  Spurgeon  had  his  subjective  expe- 
riences of  mental  obstruction ;  but  his  frank,  manly,  womanly 
way  was  to  make  his  hearers  confidants  of  his  moods,  by 
telling  them  outright  when  his  chariot  wheels  were  driving 
heavily.  No  speaker  was  ever  more  sure  of  the  sympathy 
of  his  hearers. 

Perfect  mastery  of  his  own  system  of  doctrine  was  an- \ 
other  secret  of  Mr.  Spurgeon's  power.  Perfect  mastery  of S 
it  and  perfect  conviction  of  its  truth  went  hand  in  hand 
together  with  him.  He  never  stood  before  his  hearers  like  a 
reed  shaken  with  the  wind.  He  stood  solid  on  the  rock, 
with  the  whole  balanced  weight  of  his  great  personality. 

The  doctrine  itself  that  he  taught  had  the  immense  ad- 
vantage of  being  a  doctrine  that  could  easily  be  made  in- 
telligible to  average  minds.  And  average  minds  composed 
the  audience  to  which  Mr.  Spurgeon  addressed  himself. 
The  character  of  mediocrity  wrote  itself  legibly,  unmis- 
takably, over  the  aspect  of  the  Tabernacle  congregation.  I 
say  this  to  Mr.  Spurgeon's  praise.  His  church  was  essen- 
tially a  mission  church  occupying  mission  ground.  All  the 
unequaled  influence  as  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  that  Mr. 
Spurgeon  attained,  he  attained,  let  this  be  forever  remem- 
bered to  his  honor,  in  the  service  of  a  church  made  up  of 
"  not  many  wise,  not  many  noble."  What  his  preaching  did 
was  to  present  to  such  hearers  the  one  unchanging  Gospel 
of  Christ,  in  countless  changes  of  form  each  perfectly  level 
to  the  comprehension  of  all.  He  turned  and  turned  the 
kaleidoscope  of  the  sermon,   and  exhibited  to  his  hearers, 


212  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

never  weary  of  beholding,  the  same  precious  truth  over  and 
over  again,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  in  displays  that  had  noth- 
ing new  to  recommend  them  but  the  endlessly  new  combina- 
tions of  things  old  that  the  magic  of  the  preacher  could 
produce.  If  the  same  combinations  even  were  sometimes 
repeated,  that  did  not  make  the  pleasure  of  seeing  them 
pall  in  the  least  upon  the  appetite  of  the  beholders.  The 
achievement  was  magnificent,  of  a  magnificent  aim  —  to 
preach  the  Gospel  to  the  poor. 

It  would  be  a  capital  omission  not  to  make  note  of  the 
blithe  humor  that  enlivened  the  earnest  temperament  of  Mr. 
Spurgeon,  and  broadened  and  quickened  his  touch  with 
the  people.  This,  and  an  instantaneous  alertness  of  mind 
in  him  that  served  every  useful  purpose  of  wit,  stood  him 
many  a  time  in  good  stead  on  oratoric  occasions.  These 
two  qualities  of  his  subsisted  in  a  noble  basis  of  Saxon 
common  sense,  and,  together  with  that,  saved  him  remark- 
ably, throughout  his  life,  from  serious  practical  errors. 

The  fundamental  attribute,  alike  of  his  talent  and  of  his 
character,  was  a  magnanimous  simplicity.  His  conduct  and 
his  speech  were  uniformly  such  as  seemed  comportable  with 
the  straightforwardness,  the  honor,  the  sense  of  personal 
responsibility,  proper  to  a  Christian  gentleman. 

Have  I  seemed  to  intimate  that  Mr.  Spurgeon  was  not 
distinctively  a  thinker  —  or  "  Thinker,"  spelled  with  a  cap- 
ital T?  Well,  distinctively,  or  at  least  preeminently,  he 
was  not;  but  his  was  a  mind  prodigiously  active,  prodi- 
giously alert,  nevertheless.  He  had  the  fact,  if  not  the  form. 
of  culture.  This  he  had  by  heredity;  for  he  came  of  a  race 
of  preachers.  The  instinct,  the  capacity,  to  know  flowed 
in  his  blood.  What  others  had  to  study  for,  was,  in  many 
instances,  Spurgeon's  by  the  munificent  gift  of  nature.  He, 
by  intuition,  knew  at  once  much  that  his  fellows  were 
obliged  through  tuition  laboriously  to  learn.  Still,  I  shall 
not  disguise  the  fact  that  for  my  own  individual  content- 
ment of  mind,  and  even  of  heart,  Mr.  Spurgeon's  ordinary 
sermons  were  too  much  the  product  of  facility  rather  than 


CHARLES  H ADDON  SPURGEON 


213 


thought.  But  I  dare  not,  after  all,  decide  quite  positively 
that  I  should  think  it  better  done  on  his  part,  if  he  had  di- 
verted his  mind  from  other  occupation  to  bestow  more  labor 
of  thought  on  his  sermons.  As  it  v^as,  he  certainly  tasked 
himself  enough ;  to  have  tasked  himself  differently,  who  in 
the  presence  of  an  accomplished  life  so  free  from  tare  and 
tret  as  was  Mr.  Spurgeon's,  would  venture  to  say  that  that 
would  assuredly  have  been  wiser? 

And  consider  what  was  Mr.  Spurgeon's  case.  Not  twenty 
years  of  age,  and,  from  that  stage  of  untrained,  or  not 
thoroughly-trained  youth,  on  to  the  end  at  fifty-seven, 
plunged,  with  never  an  emersion  for  free  breath,  in  the 
ever-increasing  sea  of  the  largest  and  the  most  responsible 
Christian  pastorship  in  the  world,  not  to  speak  of  the  mani- 
fold other  cares  that  he  put  his  Atlantean  shoulders  under ! 
Would  it  not  be  fatuity  itself  to  demand  of  such  a  man,  so 
placed,  the  graces,  the  amenities,  the  elegances,  of  the  leis- 
urely scholar,  the  profundities  of  the  recluse  thinker? 

Take  him  for  what  he  was,  and  not  measure  him  against 
what  is  no  standard  for  such  as  he,  and  where  is  the  man 
left  to  die  that  will  carry  more  light,  more  warmth,  more 
life,  as  of  a  sun,  out  of  the  world  in  going  from  it,  than 
went  hence  last  Saturday  night  with  the  passing  of  Charles 
Haddon  Spurgeon? 


VIII 
HENRY  PARRY  LIDDON 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

The  criticism  following  was  written  in  London  —  with 
enjoyment  therefore  of  access  to  necessary  sources  of  in- 
formation respecting  the  subject  treated,  and  in  the  midst 
of  an  atmosphere  full  of  Canon  Liddon's  personal  tradition 
and  fame.  The  effect  of  the  environment  will  perhaps  be 
felt  by  sensitive  readers,  diffused  throughout  the  text  of 
the  paper.  I  am  bound  to  say  that  the  remarks  at  the 
opening  about  the  unfavorable,  almost  defeating,  influence 
on  preaching,  of  the  architectural  conditions  supplied  in  the 
Cathedral  of  St.  Paul's,  called  out  some  response  in  the  way 
of  objection  rather  than  of  confirmation  and  support.  I 
leave  standing  nevertheless  what  I  said,  because  I  believe 
it  to  be  true,  true  indeed  from  the  very  necessities  of  the  case. 
The  reader,  however,  furnished  with  the  foregoing  hint  of 
contrary  view,  may,  whether  more  assisted  or  more  confused 
by  these  cross-lights  thrown  on  the  point,  choose  his  opinion, 
or  decide  not  to  have  any  opinion,  as  shall  seem  to  him  good. 

In  revising  this  paper,  I  renew  with  pleasure  the  satis- 
faction I  experienced  when  I  wrote  it,  in  contact  with  the 
noble  spirit  which  I  felt  throbbing  joyously  and  powerfully 
throughout  Canon  Liddon's  printed  production.  It  will  be 
a  true  service  that  I  shall  have  done  any  minister  of  Christ 
whom  I  may  induce  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  this  stalwart, 
heroical  defender  of  the  faith. 

It  is  very  interesting  to  note  the  fine  sympathy  —  faith- 
fully discriminative  sympathy  —  exercised  by  Mr.  Spurgeon 
toward  a  man  so  far  removed  from  himself  by  his  ecclesias- 
ticism  as  was  Canon  Liddon.    In  Mr.  Spurgeon's  monthly, 

217 


2i8  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

"  The  Sword  and  the  Trowel,"  under  the  title,  "  Canon 
Liddon's  Witness  concerning  the  Down-Grade,"  I  find  the 
following  —  with  a  foot-note,  which  I  print  here  as  preface 
to  the  extract: 

"Extract  from  a  sermon  preached  by  the  late  Canon  Liddon,  at  St. 
Paul's  Cathedral,  December '22,  1889.  Differing  as  we  did  from  him  in 
his  High  Church  opinions,  we  could  not  but  admire  his  zeal  for  the  great 
verities  of  the  gospel,  and  his  fervent  love  to  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  He 
was  ever  on  the  side  of  faith,  and  was  not  a  teacher  of  doubt,  as  too 
many  are  in  these  days: 

"  Instead  of  attempting  to  coerce  human  souls  into  conversion, 
the  men  of  our  day  take  great  trouble  to  explain  that  conversion 
involves  very  little  —  only  a  very  few  new  convictions,  only  a 
very  slight  change  of  life.  We  dwell  at  great  length  on  that. 
Exaggerating  the  amount  of  truth  to  be  found  in  heathen  religions, 
we  attenuate,  as  far  as  we  can,  the  distinctive  truths  of  the  re- 
ligion of  Christ.  The  sterner  sayings  of  our  Lord  are  thrown 
into  the  background,  or  are  explained  away.  God  is  presented 
as  an  easy-going  benevolence,  with  no  tangible  quality  of  justice 
belonging  to  him ;  sin  is  resolved  iuto  natural  mistake,  or  into  an 
imperfect  form  of  virtue ;  the  atonement  into  a  higher  kind  of 
sympathy;  the  action  of  the  Holy  Spirit  into  an  indefinite  im- 
pulse towards  good ;  the  sacraments  into  graceful  symbols  of  spir- 
itual processes  which  may  or  may  not  take  place  within  us ;  the 
Bible  into  a  book  of  the  highest  interest,  but  not  to  be  trusted 
as  a  depository  of  absolute  truth.  The  definiteness,  the  severity, 
the  awe,  the  mysteriousness  of  the  old  creed  of  Christendom  dis- 
appears in  this  new  presentation  of  it;  and  with  this  —  let  us  be 
sure  of  it  —  there  also  disappears  the  unveiling  of  an  infinite  love, 
and  the  putting  forth  of  an  irresistible  attraction.  After  all, 
what  has  this  attenuated  Christianity  to  say  to  the  heathen  f  If 
a  man  should  have  the  heart  to  become  a  missionary  on  behalf  of 
so  thin  a  creed  as  this,  it  may  be  predicted  that  he  will  not  do 
very  much  for  the  men  to  whom  he  addresses  himself;  for  the 
heart  of  heathendom  would  say  to  him :  '  If  this  he  all  that  you 
have  to  bring  us,  why  approach  us  at  all?  Why  not  stay  at  home, 
and  leave  us  to  make  the  best  we  can  of  our  own  twilight,  with' 
out  being  distracted  by  yours?'" 

How  entirely  after  Spurgeon's  own  heart  such  a  vital 


HENRY  PARRY  LIDDON 


219 


expression  as  that  from  the  High-churchman  Liddon ! 
What  wonder  that  Baptist  editor  Spurgeon  quoted  it  in  his 
monthly  with  delight  1 


HENRY  PARRY  LIDDON 

Henry  Parry  Liddon  presents  the  half  pathetic  case  of 
a  man,  in  some  important  respects  well  endowed  to  be  a 
great  preacher,  pitting  himself  heroically  against  hostile 
circumstance  and  —  not  failing,  but  not  splendidly  succeed- 
ing. For,  comparatively  eloquent  and  comparatively  fa- 
mous for  eloquence  though  Canon  Liddon  undoubtedly  was, 
he  fell  below  the  mark  that  by  merit  was  properly  his,  both 
in  the  degree,  and  in  the  renown  of  the  degree,  that  as  pul- 
pit orator  he  achieved.  St.  Paul's  Cathedral  was  too  much 
for  him;  as  it  will  always  be,  since  it  must  always  be,  too 
much  for  any  man  that  tries  to  produce  in  it  the  just  effect 
of  preaching.  Three-quarters  of  Liddon's  never  excessive 
physical  force  was  absorbed  and  lost  in  the  exhausting 
effort  to  overcome  the  pitilessly  adverse  conditions  of  the 
place,  and  merely  and  barely  get  himself  heard  by  his  audi- 
ence—  if  audience  can  fairly  be  called  an  unorganized  mul- 
titude of  people  disposed  and  dispersed  as  people  must  be 
in  that  vast  edifice  resplendent  for  show  and  fatal  for  ora- 
tory. It  was  a  cruel  altar,  however  richly  decorated,  on 
which  to  sacrifice  such  precious  gifts,  gifts  always  so  rare, 
as  were  Canon  Liddon's. 

The  present  writer  thus  speaks,  not  from  personal  ob- 
servation of  Canon  Lidden  preaching  in  St.  Paul's.  The 
privilege  of  such  observation  he  never  enjoyed.  But  he 
speaks  with  the  utmost  confidence  nevertheless.  He  has 
seen  the  place,  and  he  has  heard,  sometimes  rather  has 
failed  to  hear,  sermons  preached  in  it.  Besides  this,  intel- 
ligent sympathetic  report  of  the  physical  cost  at  which 
Canon  Liddon  did  his  preaching  there,  satisfies  him  that  he 
keeps  within  bounds  in  estimating  at  three-fourths  the  waste 
of  power  exacted  by  the  relentless  spirit  of  the  spot,  from 

220 


HENRY  PARRY  LIDDON  221 

that  eminent  preacher,  before  he  was  permitted  to  enjoy 
in  any  faintest  degree,  the  orator's  necessary  privilege  of 
feehng  that  his  words  were  taking  effect.  I  quote  in  con- 
firmation a  passage  of  description,  which  will  be  felt  to  con- 
stitute its  own  sufficient  accreditment,  from  an  anonymous 
observer  writing  in  the  "British  Weekly"  newspaper: 

"  One  Sunday  I  sauntered  into  the  cathedral  an  hour  too 
soon,  and  seated  myself  within  six  yards  of  the  pulpit.  Before 
Dr.  Liddon  had  spoken  three  sentences  I  saw  that  he  was  mak- 
ing a  tremendous  effort.  Every  sentence,  clause,  word,  was 
hurled  as  from  a  catapult  across  the  vast  void  above  the  count- 
less faces  below ;  and  the  preacher's  ear  and  eye  were  alike 
strained  to  catch  whether  each  word  hit  the  point  in  the  dis- 
tance on  which  both  eye  and  ear  were  bent.  So  it  began,  and 
so  it  continued  during  the  sermon,  and  during  the  whole  the 
muscles  of  the  orator's  face  as  well  as  his  body  were  working 
like  cordage,  till  the  dark  features  were  bathed  in  pitiless  perspir- 
ation. The  sermon  was  a  fine  one,  and  labor  was  no  doubt 
partly  imaginative  and  moral.  But  that  it  was  chiefly  the  mere 
physical  exertion  necessary  to  make  himself  heard,  seemed  to 
me  to  be  proved  by  one  thing.  He  read  every  word ;  but  again 
and  again,  with  the  manuscript  before  him,  he  made  obvious 
blunders  in  grammar  —  blunders  which  a  schoolboy  could  correct, 
but  which  the  great  preacher  never  noticed.  He  was  like  a  man 
working  a  park  of  artillery  on  the  actual  battle-field  —  too  im- 
mersed in  hurling  his  words  across  the  vast  intervening  space 
to  notice  what  the  projectiles  consisted  of,  or  how  they  were 
chained  together." 

The  destiny  was  a  cruel  one,  but  Canon  Liddon's  destiny 
it  was,  and,  in  necessary  result,  it  is  with  a  pulpit  orator,  not 
defeated  indeed,  but  not  overwhelmingly  triumphant,  that 
we  have  in  this  paper  to  deal. 

Yet  almost  it  ought  to  be  reckoned  overwhelmingly  tri- 
umphant in  oratory,  not  to  be  disastrously  defeated,  if  you 
have  to  achieve  your  result  by  preaching  in  St.  Paul's  Cathe- 
dral. It  is  not  simply  that  your  audience  is  broken  from 
its  mass  as  a  whole  into  several  instalments  of  audience;  not 


222  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

simply  that  the  immense  dome,  lofty  as  well  as  large  like 
a  sky,  seems  to  make  the  voice  volatile  and  dissipate  it  in 
the  upper  air;  not  simply  that  angles  and  arches  and  pil- 
lars intercept  and  shatter  your  v^rords.  This  v^^ould  be  bad 
enough,  but  besides  all  this,  there  is  a  multiplex  murmurous 
echo  which,  refracted  around  the  angles,  running  under  the 
arches,  and  reflected  from  the  pillars,  retreats  in  a  pro- 
longed low  multitudinous  diminuendo,  to  vanish  from  the 
ear  which  tries  to  follow  that,  in  the  remote  recesses  of  the 
building.  Meantime  the  ear  that  tries  to  follow  the  voice  of 
the  speaker  instead,  can  hardly  well  define  the  sound  from 
the  perplexed  polyglot  penumbra  of  echo  that  incessantly 
mocks  and  confuses  it. 

It  was  mainly  by  preaching  under  such  conditions  as 
have  thus  been  inadequately  described,  that  Canon  Liddon 
became  the  celebrated  preacher  that  during  so  many  years 
he  was ;  for  he  preached  mainly  in  the  Cathedral  of  St. 
Paul's.  Let  us  boldly  say,  then,  that  after  all  he  triumphed 
overwhelmingly,  that  he  did  achieve  a  resplendent  success. 

Mainly,  I  say,  by  preaching  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral;  but 
by  no  means  exclusively  in  that  way.  For  Canon  Liddon 
was,  one  memorable  season  —  a  season  made  memorable 
by  his  own  memorable  exploit  —  Bampton  lecturer  before 
the  University  of  Oxford.  He  then  —  it  was  in  1886  — 
delivered  a  series  of  lectures,  eight  in  number,  which,  to- 
gether with  an  appendix  of  notes  accompanying  them  when 
they  were  published,  and  with  elaborate  indexes  to  their 
contents,  make  up  a  solid  volume  of  five  hundred  and 
eighty-four  compact  and  ample  pages.  The  subject  chosen 
by  the  lecturer  from  among  those  prescribed  by  the  founder 
of  the  lectureship,  was  "  The  Divinity  of  Our  Lord  and 
Savior  Jesus  Christ."  The  lectures,  taken  together,  con- 
stitute what  it  is  probably  no  exaggeration  to  pronounce 
the  most  exhaustive  and  satisfactory  treatment  of  their 
subject  existing  in  any  language.  They  are  learned,  quite 
sufficiently  so;  they  are,  to  almost  the  last  degree,  logical; 
they  are   luminous   in   arrangement;   they  are   as   lucid   in 


HENRY  PARRY  LIDDON 


223 


style  as  their  tendency  to  long  and  elaborate  sentences, 
periodic  in  structure,  permitted  them  to  be ;  they  are  re- 
markably alert  in  anticipative  attention  to  every  conceiv- 
able phase  of  doubt  and  objection  respecting  the  soundness 
of  their  argument;  they  live  and  throb  with  blood-red  per- 
sonal conviction  and  earnestness  on  the  part  of  the  author, 
and  they  rise  in  numerous  passages  to  the  height  and 
majesty  of  a  really  commanding  eloquence.  They  are  con- 
ceived and  written  in  both  the  form  and  the  spirit  of  ser- 
mons, each  lecture  having  a  text,  which  is  not  treated  as 
a  mere  motto,  a  disregarded  point  of  departure,  for  the 
discussion  introduced,  but  which  affects  vitally,  as  a  text 
should  do,  the  development  of  the  discourse  ostensibly  drawn 
from  it.  In  other  words,  lectures  tho  they  are  called,  and 
lectures  tho  they  properly  are,  they  are,  in  most  essen- 
tial respects,  sermons  too,  sermons  of  an  academic  or  imi- 
versity  class.  These  Bampton  lectures  must  always  con- 
tinue to  be,  as  they  have  been  in  the  past,  the  sheet-anchor 
to  Canon  Liddon's  fame.  They  represent  him  not  only  at 
his  intellectual,  but  also  at  his  moral  and  spiritual,  highest 
and  best.  Higher  and  better,  in  the  way  of  homiletic  pro- 
duction, the  Church  of  England  of  the  nineteenth  century 
would  call  over  the  muster-roll  of  her  clergy  in  vain  to 
show.  It  would  be  fair,  therefore,  to  Canon  Liddon  him- 
self, as  it  could  not  fail  to  be  profitable  to  the  readers  of 
this  paper,  if  his  famous  Bampton  lectures  should  be  drawn 
upon  here  to  furnish,  in  large  part,  examples  and  illustra- 
tions of  his  quality. 

More  in  keeping,  however,  with  the  general  character  and 
aim  of  the  present  series  of  papers,  will  be  a  preference  of 
some  of  Liddon's  sermons  proper,  for  particular  examina- 
tion. Let  us,  then,  turn  our  attention  to  the  remarkable 
cycles  of  discourses  which  he  preached  and  published  as 
occupant  of  the  pulpit  of  St.  Paul's.  Of  these  sermons, 
none  probably  will  better  repay  examination  than  those  of 
the  two  series  entitled  "  Easter  Sermons."  These,  as  pub- 
lished,   are    noted    on    the    title-page,    "  Sermons    Bearing 


224 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


Chiefly  on  the  Resurrection  of  our  Lord."  This  subject 
was  a  favorite  one  with  Canon  Liddon.  He  had  the  sagac- 
ity to  see,  the  instinct  to  feel,  that  the  resurrection  of 
Christ  is  the  keystone  to  Christianity,  as  it  is  the  crux,  be- 
coming such  daily  more  and  more,  the  baffling,  the  unman- 
ageable, crux  of  current  skeptical  theologic  thought. 

Our  object,  let  us  remind  ourselves  in  prosecuting  the 
present  study,  will  be  not  simply  to  praise,  but  fairly  to  ap- 
praise. Before  entrance  on  the  particular  examination  pro- 
posed, it  may  be  profitable  to  premise  some  analysis  of 
Canon  Liddon's  rich  and  potent  personahty  as  displayed  in 
his  preaching. 

In  the  first  place,  this  eminent  preacher,  with  all  his 
great  merits,  was  not  a  supreme  master  of  style.  His  value 
is  the  value  of  substance  rather  than  of  form,  rather  even 
than  of  substance  and  form  indivisibly  blended.  It  is  with 
sincere  reluctance  that  I  thus  express  myself,  for  I  know 
that  such  a  judgment,  sustained,  rules  Canon  Liddon  out 
from  among  the  great  classics  of  literature  —  of  literature, 
that  is  to  say,  considered  as  literature.  Of  course,  I  can- 
not mean  that  Canon  Liddon  did  not  write  well,  that  he  did 
not  write  very  well.  What  I  mean  is  that  his  style,  tho 
good,  tho  very  good,  has  yet  little  or  nothing  of  that  last 
felicity,  that  nameless  charm,  in  expression,  which  makes 
the  reading  of  an  author  a  delight,  irrespectively  almost 
of  the  things  that  he  may  choose  to  say.  You  could  not 
justly  apply  to  Canon  Liddon  the  classic  praise,  "  He  touched 
nothing  that  he  did  not  adorn."  He  would  never,  however 
historically  placed,  have  made  such  a  writer  as  Cicero.  But 
he  would  easily,  under  the  right  conditions  of  time  and 
place,  have  made  an  Augustine,  or,  better  still,  an  Athan- 
asius.  A  man  of  practical  genius  he  may  be  admitted  to 
have  been;  but  he  was  not  a  man  of  literary  genius,  in  the 
transcendent  sense  of  that  expression,  not  a  man  of  genius 
as  Jeremy  Taylor,  or  even  as  Robert  South  was  a  man  of 
genius,  or,  to  come  nearer  his  own  time,  as  Robert  Hall 
was  a  man  of  genius.     Canon  Liddon  was  a  man  rather  of 


HENRY  PARRY  LIDDON  22^ 

a  noble  talent  nobly  employed,  that  is,  employed  with  noble 
conscience,  noble  aim,  noble  industry.  His  preeminence 
lies  less  in  his  gifts  than  in  his  use  of  his  gifts.  All  the 
more  inspiring  and  more  helpful  for  this  very  reason  his 
example  may  be.  Each  one  of  us  may  legitimately  feel,  if 
this  was  possible  to  him  because  he  was  faithful  rather 
than  because  he  was  great,  something  like  this  may  be 
possible  also  to  me,  if  without  greatness  I  practice  a  faith- 
fulness like  his. 

Approaching  our  task  of  examination  with  expectation 
thus  justly  moderated  somewhat,  and  therefore  the  less 
liable  to  a  reaction  of  disappointment  needlessly  injurious 
to  Canon  Liddon's  merit  and  fame,  we  may  expect  to  meet 
in  his  work  great  excellences  offset  with  certain  minor 
defects;  which  two  contrasted  attributes  of  his,  fairly  coun- 
terweighed, will  be  found  to  leave  a  weighty  balance  in  his 
favor. 

To  me  quite  the  sovereign  thing  in  Canon  Liddon's  en- 
dowment from  nature,  was  his  moral  courage.  I  experi- 
ence few  contacts  in  late  literature  that  give  me  a  more  in- 
vigorating, more  inspiring,  more  ennobling  reaction,  to  the 
very  quick  of  my  moral  being,  than  does  Canon  Liddon.  He 
was  a  man  of  manhood  all  compact.  There  was  not  a  dis- 
solute, effeminate,  fibre  in  him.  A  chain  is  truly  said  to  be 
no  stronger  than  it  is  at  its  weakest  link.  A  man  is  no 
stronger  than  he  is  at  his  weakest  point.  But  there  was  no 
weak  point  in  Liddon.  He  was  as  strong  everywhere  as  he 
was  anywhere.  His  convictions  were  strong  because  he  was 
strong.  They  were  strong  by  the  whole  strength  of  the  man 
who  held  them,  or  who  was  held  by  them.  But  a  holding 
does  not  represent  the  relation  that  existed  between  Canon 
Liddon  and  his  convictions.  There  never,  in  his  case,  could 
have  been  anything  like  a  strain  or  tension  felt  from  the 
man  to  his  convictions,  or  from  his  convictions  to  the  man. 
They  did  not  hold  the  one  the  other.  They  were  the  one  the 
other. 

Does  some  ope  ask  wonderingly  whfit  ground  exists  for 
Q 


226  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

making  so  much  of  this  claim  on  behalf  of  Canon  Liddon? 
He  was  never  a  martyr,  was  he,  and  never  in  danger  of  be- 
ing a  martyr?  How  was  he  tried  that  he  could  show  him- 
self to  be  indeed  of  such  stuff  as  you  say?  I  answer,  there 
were,  I  believe,  crises,  real  crises,  in  Canon  Liddon's  ex- 
perience as  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England,  in  which 
his  moral  courage  had  signal  opportunity  to  display  itself. 
But  of  these  I  will  not  speak,  for  I  need  not;  and,  besides, 
this  paper  is  in  no  sense  a  criticism  of  the  man.  Canon 
Liddon,  except  as  the  man  was  a  preacher.  Let  us  cling 
closely  to  our  true  topic,  which  is  Canon  Liddon  as  a 
preacher.  But  Canon  Liddon  as  a  preacher  was  a  man  of 
moral  courage  nothing  less  than  magnificent. 

Before  illustrating  and  confirming  what  I  mean  in  saying 
this,  I  need  to  point  out  another  admirable  feature  very 
closely  allied  to  moral  courage,  yet  distinct  from  that,  in 
Canon  Liddon's  equipment  as  a  preacher.  He  was  a  man 
not  simply  of  profound  convictions  —  his  native  character 
forbade  his  being  other  than  that  —  but  a  man  of  pro- 
found religious  convictions.  He  was  even  more  and  better 
than  what  is  thus  described.  Though  far  removed  from 
being  a  mystic,  and  equally  far  removed  from  being  a  sen- 
timentalist, he  was,  toward  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ,  a 
loyal,  reverent,  affectionate,  hero-worshiper  like  the  great 
apostle  Paul.  His  religious  convictions  were  first  of  the 
head,  intelligent,  reasoned,  fortified  impregnably,  and  then 
they  were  taken  up  by  the  heart  and  transformed  into  per- 
sonal affection,  both  vivid  and  constant.  Canon  Liddon's 
religion  was  at  bottom  a  perfectly  sane,  but  at  the  same 
time  a  completely  overmastering,  sentiment  of  personal  love 
to  Jesus  Christ.  His  moral  courage  in  the  pulpit  was  the 
courage  of  such  conviction  transformed  into  such  emo- 
tion. He  was  never  in  any  presence  ashamed  of  Christ.  He 
not  only  never  denied  his  Lord,  but  his  voice  never  fal- 
tered a  note  in  confessing  his  Lord.  He  believed  too  pro- 
foundly, he  loved  too  intensely. 

Now  let  it  not  be  imagined  that  for  Canon  Liddon,  placed 


HENRY  PARRY  LIDDON 


227 


as  he  was,  it  required  less  than  a  moral  courage  of  magnifi- 
cent temper  to  be  as  steady  in  supreme  loyalty  to  Christ  as  he 
invariably  abode.  It  is  to  be  remembered  that  this  great 
preacher  was  a  scholar  among  scholars,  a  thinker  among 
thinkers.  He  was  naturally,  and  by  long  habit,  a  Univer- 
sity man.  He  never  married,  and  he  loved  the  life  of  a 
student.  He  did  not  enter  into  the  common  experience  of 
his  fellow-men  as  he  would  have  done  had  he  yielded  his 
ceHbate  condition  and  centred  himself  amid  domestic  ties 
in  a  home  of  his  own.  He  was  fond  of  those  cenobite  re- 
lations with  persons  of  his  own  sex,  which,  among  English 
Protestants,  are  best  found  in  the  communities  of  scholars 
at  a  great  university  seat  like  Oxford.  But,  in  such  an 
environment  as  that,  in  such  an  age  as  our  own,  the  scholar 
and  the  thinker  is  sure  to  encounter,  in  its  most  tremendous 
aspect,  that  formidable,  that  awe-inspiring,  that  brow-beat- 
ing spectre  of  the  cultivated  imagination,  the  Spirit  of  the 
Time.  And  the  Spirit  of  the  Time  is  a  spectre  whose  in- 
effable menace  is  directed,  now,  especially  against  simple, 
old-fashioned,  unbated  faith  in  Jesus  Christ  as  declared  to 
be  the  Son  of  God  with  power  by  His  resurrection  from 
the  dead.  Be  a  scholar  among  scholars,  a  thinker  among 
thinkers,  as  Canon  Liddon  was,  and  still  keep  that  faith,  if 
you  can,  unsophisticated  and  whole,  like  the  faith  of  a  lit- 
tle child.  The  Spirit  of  the  Time  will  loom  to  the  sky  be- 
fore you;  will  lean,  an  unescapable  imminence,  over  you, 
and  will  seem  with  a  frown  to  say,  What  art  thou,  so 
small,  to  withstand  ME,  the  Spirit  of  the  Time?  But 
Canon  Liddon  towered  as  tall  as  the  Spirit  of  the  Time,  and 
met  it  with  an  equal  eye.  He  seemed  naturally  and  irre- 
pressibly  to  dilate  with  the  feeling,  "  Greater  is  He  that  is 
in  me  than  he  that  is  in  the  world." 

I  have  thus  expressed  myself,  I  suppose,  with  quite  suf- 
ficient sympathetic  enthusiasm.  I  have  indulged  my  instinct- 
ive bent  in  doing  so.  I  am  conscious  of  an  exhilarating  de- 
light in  approving  and  applauding  a  moral  courage  like  that 
which  I  have  attributed  to  Canon  Liddon.     Ought  I  to  check 


228  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

myself?  Is  there  a  just  and  necessary  qualification  to  be  ap- 
plied to  Liddon's  merit  at  this  point?  Perhaps  so.  Per- 
haps his  magnificent  virtue  of  moral  courage  was  not  alto- 
gether, not  quite  altogether,  the  virtue  of  the  exposed  and 
single  adventurous  soldier  of  the  truth.  Probably  it  was  in 
part  —  in  some  part,  however  small  the  part  —  an  individ- 
ual expression  only  of  an  esprit  de  corps,  that  is,  of  a  senti- 
ment supporting  itself  in  each  member  of  a  community  by 
the  consciousness  of   its  being  participated  by  all. 

For  —  and  now  I  mention  a  distinct  and  noteworthy,  a 
very  influential,  element  in  Canon  Liddon's  character  as 
clergyman  and  as  preacher  —  he  was  a  highly  ecclesiastical 
spirit,  ecclesiastical  as  distinguished  from,  and  additional 
to,  simply  Christian  and  scriptural.  To  say  that  he  be- 
longed to  the  "  High  Church  "  party  in  the  English  Estab- 
lishment would  not  be  an  untrue,  but  it  would  be  an  inade- 
quate, statement  of  the  fact.  Liddon  was  too  large  a  man, 
not  to  say  too  devoted  a  Christian,  to  be  absorbed  in  the 
mint,  anise  and  cummin  of  Ritualism.  He  undoubtedly  gave 
strength,  by  giving,  through  imputable  adhesion,  intellectual 
standing,  to  that  section  of  the  English  Church,  who,  hold- 
ing high  ecclesiastical  doctrines,  expend  their  zeal  in  pub- 
lishing those  doctrines  through  elaborate  visible  forms. 
Nothing,  however,  of  this  small,  tithing  spirit  found  lodg- 
ment in  Liddon.  You  would,  I  believe,  search  his  sermons 
in  vain  for  one  hint  that  he  was,  in  any  such  sense,  in  any 
degree  whatever,  a  ritualist.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  all  his 
sermons,  or  almost  all,  yield  evidence  that  he  was  a  thor- 
oughgoing, a  severe,  an  uncompromising  ecclesiasticist.  "  The 
Church  "  to  him  was  as  much,  almost  as  much,  as  it  is  to 
the  most  resolute  Roman  Catholic.  And  "  The  Church " 
for  him  was  not  simply  the  Church  of  England.  Again, 
neither  was  it  the  great,  collective,  ideal  assembly,  made  up 
of  all  true  believers  of  all  ages  and  races.  It  was  a  very 
definite,  a  strictly  limited,  outwardly  visible  whole,  con- 
sisting apparently  of  three,  and  only  three  parts,  to  wit 
(presumably),  the  Roman  Church,  the  Greek  Church,   and 


HENRY  PARRY  LIDDON 


229 


the  English  Church.  The  sects  or  denominations  of  Chris- 
tians, however  numerous  their  membership,  and  however 
sound  in  the  great  essentials  their  faith,  are  conscientious- 
ly, and  this  not  silently,  but  expressly,  excluded  by  Liddon 
from  account.  Such  is  the  sense  I  gather  from  utterances 
of  Liddon's  like  the  following: 

"  And  how,  relatively,  slight  are  the  differences  which  separate 
the  three  branches  of  the  Church  from  each  other,  nay,  even  the 
Church  herself  from  most  of  the  voluntary  and  self-organised 
communities  of  Christians  around  her."  ("  University  Sermons," 
"  The  Law  of  Progress.") 

The  italics  here,  in  the  latter  of  the  two  cases,  are  vay^ 
own.  Observe  how  little  offensive  in  statement,  a  view  so 
unalterably  offensive  in  fact,  becomes,  proceeding  from  Lid- 
don's tongue  and  pen.  We  outsiders  are  recognized  as 
"  Christians,"  although  we  are  schismatically  "  self-organ- 
ized "  in  "  communities  "  not  of  "  The  Church."  Nay,  the 
"  differences "  that  separate  us  from  "  The  Church "  are 
"  relatively  slight."  The  italics  now  are  the  conscientious 
Canon's  own.  It  will  not  escape  the  consideration  of 
thoughtful  minds  what  an  heroic  exclusion  —  heroic  in  point 
of  numbers  concerned,  and  even  in  some  cases  in  point  of 
imposing  ecclesiastic  pretension  —  is  effected  by  the  impli- 
cation of  Canon  Liddon's  words.  Not  only  are  excluded 
the  multitudes  of  "  self-organizing "  Christians  in  America, 
in  the  British  Isles,  and  elsewhere  throughout  the  world, 
but  equally  the  State  churches,  too,  of  Protestant  Conti- 
nental Europe,  not  excepting  the  Reformed  Church  of 
France,  historically  so  reverend,  and  so  dear  in  the  eyes 
of  another  great  ecclesiasticist,  the  eminent  French  preacher, 
Eugene  Bersier. 

The  foregoing  expression  of  Liddon's  is  not  a  chance  ex- 
pression that  might  misrepresent  the  real,  the  permanent, 
conviction  of  the  author.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  consid- 
erate, a  cautious,  a  guarded,  expression.  It  truly  represents 
the  profound  habitual  state  of  Liddon's  mind  on  the  mat- 


230 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


ter  involved.  In  a  note  to  the  Bampton  Lectures,  in  due 
course  published  after  their  oral  delivery,  the  lecturer,  reply- 
ing to  a  critic,  uses  this  language: 

"  If  the  Lecturer  had  learnt  from  the  Church  of  England  that 
'  Holy  Scripture  containeth  all  things  necessary  to  salvation,' 
he  had  also  learnt  from  her  that  the  Church  '  hath  authority  in 
controversies  of  faith.'  .  .  .  The  Christian  Revelation  was 
in  fact  committed,  not  only  to  the  pages  of  a  Sacred  Book,  but 
to  the  guardianship  of  a  Sacred  Society,  and  the  second  factor 
can  just  as  little  be  dispensed  with  as  the  first." 

Now  consider  what  "  The  Church  "  is  in  Liddon's  view ; 
consider  that  it  is  by  no  means  identical  with  the  aggre- 
gate number,  collected  into  one  conception,  of  all  true 
Christian  believers  of  whatever  name;  that  it  is  a  definite, 
limited,  exclusive  body,  made  up  threefold  of  communi- 
cants of  the  Church  of  England,  communicants  of  the 
Greek  Church,  and  communicants  of  the  Roman  Church; 
that,  therefore,  a  sentence  pronounced  by  "  The  Church " 
does  not  mean  merely  the  general  verdict  of  the  "  Chris- 
tian consciousness,"  regarded  as  a  probable  guide  to  truth 
in  Christian  doctrine,  but  means  formal  decrees  of  coun- 
cils, that  is,  of  ecclesiastical  hierarchs  speaking  with  the 
voice  of  authority,  with  the  voice  of  an  authority  that 
"  can  just  as  little  be  dispensed  with "  as  the  authority 
of  Scripture  —  consider  maturely  all  this,  and  you  have  in 
your  mind  a  fair  measure  of  the  degree  to  which  Canon 
Liddon's  churchmanship,  his  ecclesiasticism,  his  sacerdotal 
spirit,  proceeded.  This  temper,  in  fact,  stopped  little  short 
in  him  of  outright  conformity  to  the  temper  of  Roman 
Catholicism.  It  was  only,  as  it  were,  by  a  happy  inconsist- 
ency of  logic,  that  he  failed  to  be  in  fact  a  Roman  Catholic 
priest.  No  wonder  if  he  were  indeed  overmatched,  as 
some  thought  that  he  was,  in  his  controversy  conducted  in 
the  columns  of  the  London  "  Times  "  newspaper  with  that 
adroit  Roman  Catholic  propagandist,  Monsignor  Capel.  It 
was   the  incurable  weakness  of  his   ecclesiastical  position 


HENRY  PARRY  LID  DON 


231 


that  exposed  him  to  defeat  —  that,  and  no  inferiority,  on  his 
part,  of  strength  or  of  skill. 

Yes,  Canon  Liddon's  admirable  moral  courage  was,  in 
some  part,  other  than  the  unsupported  heroism  of  the  indi- 
vidual man;  it  was  also  the  spirit  in  him  of  a  class,  the 
class  holding  with  him  "  high  church  "  views.  He  felt  him- 
self backed  not  merely  by  the  intrinsic  strength  of  the 
truth  that  he  stood  for,  but  also  by  the  intrinsic  strength 
of  "The   Church." 

To  the  "  Church,"  on  which  thus  he  leaned  for  support, 
the  "  Church,"  whose  cause,  sincerely  identified  in  his  mind 
with  the  cause  of  truth,  he  unflinchingly  asserted  against 
whatever  assault  —  to  this  "  Church  "  Canon  Liddon  paid 
ever  a  certain  proud,  self-respecting,  but  profound,  and  in 
effect  unqualified,  obeisance.  He  was  as  obedient  in  inti- 
mate spirit  as  was  Cardinal  Newman,  with  whom  obedience 
to  ecclesiastical  superiority  was  fairly  a  passion.  But  the 
fashion  of  Liddon's  obedience  was  different  from  the  fashion 
of  Newman's.  You  could  imagine  Liddon  a  Roman  Catholic 
priest,  but  you  could  hardly  imagine  him,  even  in  this 
character,  using,  with  reference  to  one  sole  fellow-man, 
though  that  fellow-man  were  the  Pope,  language  like  the 
following,  publicly  used  by  Cardinal  Newman,  and  by  him 
used  not  simply  once,  in  a  moment  of  high-wrought  excite- 
ment, but  a  second  time  after  a  long  interval  following 
the  first,  and  then  on  an  occasion  when  what  would  have 
been  his  own  private  judgment  in  a  capital  matter  had 
just  been  most  humiliatingly  crossed  by  the  spiritual  tri- 
bunal to  which  he  felt  himself  bound  to  bow : 

"  Deeply  do  I  feel,  ever  will  I  protest,  for  I  can  appeal  to  the 
ample  testimony  of  history  to  bear  me  out,  that  in  questions  of 
right  or  wrong  there  is  nothing  really  strong  in  the  whole 
world,  nothing  decisive  and  operative,  but  the  voice  of  him  to 
whom  have  been  committed  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  and  the 
oversight  of  Christ's  flock.  That  voice  is  now,  as  ever  it  has 
been,  a  real  authority,  infallible  when  it  teaches,  prosperous 
when  it  commands,  ever  taking  the  lead  wisely  and  distinctly  in 


232 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


its  own  province,  adding  certainty  to  what  is  probable  and  per- 
suasion to  what  is  certain.  Before  it  speaks,  the  most  saintly 
may  mistake;  and  after  it  has  spoken  the  most  gifted  must 
obey.  ...  If  there  ever  was  a  power  on  earth  who  had 
an  eye  for  the  times,  who  has  confined  himself  to  the  practicable, 
and  has  been  happy  in  his  anticipations,  whose  words  have  been 
deeds,  and  whose  commands  prophecies,  such  is  he,  in  the  his- 
tory of  ages,  who  sits  on  from  generation  to  generation  in  the 
chair  of  the  Apostles  as  the  Vicar  of  Christ  and  the  Doctor 
of  His  Church."  ("  Cardinal  Newman,"  by  John  Oldcastle,  pp. 
56,  57-) 

The  foregoing  language,  truly  remarkable  from  a  nine- 
teenth-century Englishman,  wa.s  recalled  and  reprinted 
(with  italics  as  show^n  above)  by  Cardinal  Nevi^man  himself 
in  1872,  soon  after  the  last  great  council  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church,  in  the  course  of  a  letter  to  "  The  Guar- 
dian "  neM^spaper ;  it  had  first  appeared  in  his  "  Discourses 
on   University   Education,"  delivered   in   1852. 

One  easily  represents  to  one's  self  the  secret,  subtle  delight 
of  self-effacing  humility  with  which  John  Henry  Newman 
would  perform  an  act  of  intellectual  and  moral  prostration, 
not  to  say  abasement,  like  that.  Such  a  trait  of  behavior 
was  thoroughly  characteristic  of  the  man  that  one  like  him 
would  necessarily  become  in  becoming  Roman  Catholic. 
Widely  otherwise  with  Henry  Parry  Liddon.  Absolute  self- 
obliteration  before  a  single  fellow-creature  would  not  seem 
a  thing  in  character  for  him  to  enact.  Him  it  would  be 
much  easier  to  imagine,  for  example,  in  the  historic  place 
of  the  intrepid  Ambrose,  enforcing  that  exemplary  submis- 
sion and  penitence  on  the  offending  Emperor  Theodosius. 
Liddon  was  capable  of  far  greater  personal  gentleness  than 
was  the  relentless  antagonist  of  Fenelon,  but,  in  instinctive 
feeling  of  ecclesiastical  office,  he  was  a  ruling  pontiff  like 
Bossuet 

Have  I  made  the  impression  on  readers  of  an  unengaging, 
perhaps  repellent,  personality  in  Liddon?  Then  I  must 
make  haste  to  correct  the  impression.     Canon  Liddon  was 


HENRY  PARRY  LIDDON 


233 


the  sincerest,  the  most  loyal,  of  Christians;  he  was  the  most 
earnest,  the  most  evangelical,  of  preachers.  He  was  this 
in  essence  and  to  the  core  of  his  being, —  always  under  the 
form  and  expression  of  a  churchman,  a  priest.  Seeing  a 
fine  "  dissenting  chapel  "  once,  in  an  environment  of  obscure 
dwellings,  he  said:  "Only  the  love  of  Christ  could  have 
done  that."  There  spoke  the  affectionate  heart  of  the  Chris- 
tian, out  from  under  the  garb  of  the  priest.  It  is  not  so 
much  the  liberal  human  sympathy  expressed  in  the  remark, 
that  should  arrest  our  attention,  as  it  is  the  sentiment  of 
personal  affection  toward  Christ.  There  are  even  tears,  hid- 
den, irrepressible  tears,  of  pathos  and  of  love  in  the  words. 
Evangelical  —  printing  the  word  without  quotation  marks, 
for,  from  being  of  the  "  evangelical "  party  he  was  far 
enough  removed  —  I  pronounce  Canon  Liddon  as  preacher. 
Not  only  did  he  not  obliterate  the  preaching  office  with  the 
overlying  forms  and  ceremonies  of  the  priestly,  but  he 
was  very  impatient  of  those  who  preached  in  the  pulpit  any- 
thing short  of  the  saving  gospel  of  Christ.  He  did  not 
shrink  from  using  the  old-fashioned  gospel  terms,  but  he 
used  them  with  a  meaning  that  filled  them  full  —  terms, 
which,  in  use  that  empties  them  of  their  original  meaning, 
have  been  justly  ridiculed  as  cant.  Hear  him,  talking  to  a 
university  audience  at  Oxford,  describe  the  sort  of  minister 
that  the  minister  of  the  gospel  should  not  he;  for  my  own 
part,  I  am  not  able  not  to  think  of  the  late  Dean  Stanley,  as 
I  read: 

"  His  thought  will  drift  naturally  away  from  the  central  and 
most  solemn  truths  to  the  literary  embellishments  which  sur- 
round the  faith ;  he  will  toy  with  questions  of  geography,  or 
history,  or  custom,  or  scene,  or  dress ;  he  will  reproduce,  with 
vivid  power,  the  personages  and  events  of  long  past  ages,  and  this, 
it  may  be,  with  the  talent  of  a  master  artist ;  he  will  give  to  the 
human  side  of  religion  the  best  of  his  time  and  of  his  toil,  and 
in  doing  this,  he  may,  after  the  world's  measure,  be  doing  good 
work.  But  let  us  not  deceive  ourselves ;  he  will  not  be  saving 
souls.     Souls  are  saved  by  men  who  themselves  count  all  things 


234 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


but  dung,  that  they  may  win  Christ,  and  be  found  in  Him ;  and 
who,  even  if  they  be  men  of  refined  taste,  and  of  cultivated  in- 
tellect, know  well  how  to  subordinate  the  embellishments  of  truth 
to  its  vital  and  soul-subduing  certainties." 

The  utterer  of  these  words,  for  all  that  he  was  in  grain 
the  priest  that  I  have  described  him,  was  not  less  also,  per- 
haps was  even  more  also,  the  called,  the  consecrated,  the 
apostolic,  preacher  of  the  gospel.  Liddon  was,  in  base  of 
character,  preacher.  This  base  of  character  in  him  was 
simply  penetrated  and  modified,  by  no  means  overcome  and 
cancelled,  by  the  quality  of  priest.  It  was  fit,  therefore, 
that  his  career  should  be,  as  it  was,  preeminently  a  career 
of  the  pulpit.  No  doubt,  he  would  have  made  an  admirable 
bishop,  but  admirable  bishops  are  perhaps  more  plenty,  and 
perhaps  less  needed,  than  admirable  preachers.  Still,  it  will 
naturally  strike  thoughtful  readers  as  curious,  that  so  marked 
a  man  and  so  loyal  a  son  of  the  Church  should  not  have 
been  singled  out  for  high  ecclesiastical  preferment.  The 
truth  seems  to  be,  that,  paradoxically,  his  very  fitness  for 
rule  stood  in  the  way  of  his  becoming  a  ruler.  It  is  authen- 
tically, I  believe,  related  that,  having  once  to  preach  before 
the  Queen  of  England,  he  ventured  on  the  freedom  of  ad- 
dressing some  part  of  his  discourse  directly  to  her.  He 
was  perhaps  consciously  following  classic  example  found 
by  him  in  the  great  seventeenth-century  preachers  of  France, 
of  whom  he  was  an  admiring  and  assiduous  student:  by  the 
way,  his  habit  of  dividing  his  printed  sermons,  after  the 
French  manner,  into  parts,  marked  in  the  middle  of  the 
page  with  Roman  numerals,  is  probably  a  note  of  this. 
Louis  XIV.  was  equal  to  accepting  such  personal  appeal  from 
his  preachers  as  a  compliment,  but  Victoria,  it  is  said, 
resented  it  from  Liddon.  As  the  Queen  of  England  is,  by 
virtue  of  her  queenly  office,  also  Head  of  the  English  Church, 
Canon  Liddon  had  cut  ofif  from  himself  the  stream  of  ec- 
clesiastical promotion  at  the  very  source  from  which  it 
springs. 

I  have  thus  set  forth  those  characteristics  belonging  to 


HENRY  PARRY  LIDDON  235 

the  man  which  seem  to  me  to  have  most  profoundly  and 
most  vitally  affected  Canon  liddon's  quality  as  preacher. 
I  need  to  add  explicitly  what  has  been  already  implied,  that 
he  augmented  the  power  which  was  naturally  his  by  the 
most  sedulous  self-culture  and  by  wide-ranging  scholarship. 

As  to  the  method  by  which  he  did  his  pulpit  work,  his 
master  secret  lay  in  the  element  of  opportuneness.  He  was 
an  alert  and  sagacious  student  of  the  signs  of  the  times 
in  which  he  lived.  He  took  advantage  of  current  incidents 
that  attracted  public  attention,  and  made  them  help  him 
preach  the  gospel.  It  is  hardly  too  much  to  say  that,  if  he 
had  not,  by  his  habit  of  doing  this,  kept  people  always  in 
the  uncertain  expectation  of  hearing  from  him  something 
fresh  on  living  topics,  he  could  not,  with  those  somewhat 
closely-reasoned,  thoughtful  sermons  of  his,  have  continued 
to  command  the  large  popular  audiences  that  he  did.  But, 
apart  from  such  immediately  and  strikingly  recognizable 
allusions  to  things  of  the  moment,  there  was  also  a  deeper, 
and  a  more  difficult,  as  well  as  a  more  truly  useful,  element 
of  opportuneness  omnipresent  in  Canon  Liddon's  discourses. 
These  were  emphatically,  and  in  the  best  sense  of  the  ex- 
pression, sermons  for  the  times.  They  fought  the  battle, 
not  of  yesterday,  but  of  to-day.  They  saw  the  true  strategic 
point,  and  made  for  it.  They  sought  to  master,  and  to  keep, 
the  key  of  the  position.  Everything  was  done  as  in  the 
immediate  presence  of  the  foe.  The  flank  was  guarded, 
the  rear  was  covered,  the  front  was  serried  impenetrably 
hard.  The  column  was  ever  in  the  act  of  "  insupportably 
advancing." 

What  I  mean  by  my  military  parable  is,  that  Canon 
Liddon  constantly  preached  in  the  consciousness  of  the  par- 
ticular phase  of  religious  doubt  or  of  religious  hostility  sur- 
rounding him.  He  addressed  himself  to  the  state  of  mind 
actually  existing  among  thoughtful  persons  who  might  be 
as  yet  unconvinced  of  the  truth  of  Christianity,  or  who 
might,  under  the  influence  of  the  spirit  rife  in  the  modern 
air,  be  wavering  in  their  faith.    He  preached  as  mindful 


236  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

of  many  who,  not  hearers  of  the  sermon,  would  be  readers 
of  it  in  print.  Hence  resulted  a  blended  quality  of  homily 
and  of  apologetic  in  Liddon's  preaching.  Seldom  has  aca- 
demic preaching  been  so  popular,  or  popular  preaching  been 
so  academic,  as  was  his.  The  character  that  I  have  now  been 
noting  in  Liddon's  discourses  makes  them  admirable  sub- 
jects of  study  for  preachers,  both  as  models  in  method  with 
respect  to  opportuneness  (of  the  more  occult  and  subtle, 
and  therefore  the  more  difficult,  kind),  and  as  means  of 
informing  themselves  accurately  what  the  last  aspect  of 
critical  skepticism  is,  and,  not  less  important  certainly,  how 
that  last  aspect,  thus  ascertained,  is  best,  that  is,  most  efifect- 
ively,  most  victoriously,  met. 

It  seemed  desirable  to  be  somewhat  full,  as  I  have  sought 
to  be,  in  setting  forth  the  general  distinguishing  traits  of 
Canon  Liddon's  pulpit  work,  even  at  the  cost,  very  regret- 
table, of  having  scant  space  left  in  which  to  display  him  by 
illustrative  examples.  Before^bringing  forward  any  of  these, 
I  may  I  trust  without  offense,  under  the  just  reducing  effect 
of  the  high  praise  that  I  have  felt  bound  to  accord  to  him, 
frankly  point  out  now,  in  brief,  some  of  the  minor  faults 
that  fair  criticism  must  offset  to  his  merits. 

The  fault  of  over-long  elaborate  periods  is  perhaps  not 
justly  chargeable  against  Canon  Liddon's  sermons  in  general, 
but  in  his  Bampton  Lectures  he  certainly  not  seldom  com- 
mits it.  Even  there,  however,  it  simply  makes  needlessly 
heavy  his  style,  without  really  obscuring  his  thought.  His 
thought  is  almost  invariably  clear,  and  his  expression,  almost 
invariably,  well  exhibits  his  thought.  Almost  invariably, 
I  say.  Rarely,  very  rarely,  an  exception  occurs,  even  in 
the  well-wrought  texture  of  the  Bampton  Lectures.  For 
example  (p.  127)  :  "  For  these  and  other  reasons,  modern 
unbelief,  altho  formidable,  will  not  be  deemed  so  full  of 
menace  to  the  future  of  the  Kingdom  of  our  Lord  as  may 
sometimes  be  apprehended  by  the  nervous  timidity  of  Chris- 
tian piety."  "Will  not  be  deemed "  "  so  full  of  menace  " 
as,  nevertheless,  "  sometimes  "  it  "  may  "  be  deemed ! —  ex- 


HENRY  PARRY  LIDDON 


^Z7 


pression  negligent  to  the  point  of  futility;  but  the  negligent 
expression  is  strictly  answerable  to  negligent  thought. 

More  frequent  in  Liddon  than  faults  like  the  foregoing 
are  faults  in  diction  and  faults  in  syntax.  Not  exactly  a 
fault,  but  an  imperfect  felicity,  in  diction  is  the  hybrid 
(Greek  with  Latin)  compound,  "  superangelic  "  for  "hyper- 
angelic."  "  Every  moral  being  which  "  (instead  of  "  whom  " 
or  "that").  "Superadded  to  and  distinct  from,"  "anterior 
to  and  independent  of,"  are  examples  of  undesirable  usage. 
Conjunctions  or  conjunctive  adverbs  occur  without  properly 
grammatical  terms  of  relation ;  e.  g.,  "  the  mystery  of  the 
Self-sufficing  and  Blessed  Life  of  God  before  He  surrounded 
Himself,"  etc.  False  concord :  "  When  once  pious  affection 
or  devout  imagination  have  seized  the  reins,"  etc.  Once 
more,  and  now  a  little  group  of  representative  faults  simply 
exhibited  and  left  unclassified :  "  At  one  while ;  "  "  Halluci- 
nated; "  "  It  would  have  been  better  to  have  gone  elsewhere;" 
"  They  have  every  means  of  verifying  its  truth  or  falsehood." 
A  statement  may  be  verified,  but  not  the  "  truth  "  of  a  state- 
ment; and  certainly  not  its  "  falsehood." 

The  minor  faults  thus  exemplified  are  not  numerous 
enough  in  Liddon  to  constitute  anything  like  a  striking 
infestation  of  his  pages.  They  are,  however,  such  in  kind, 
and  to  such  a  degree  numerous,  as  to  indicate,  not  indeed 
that  Liddon  did  not  exercise  care  in  writing,  but  that  he 
lacked  that  certain  native  instinct  of  felicity  in  expression, 
possessing  which  one  may  almost  dispense  with  care,  and 
not  possessing  which  one  is  doomed  to  exercise  care  partly 
in  vain.  The  mere  habit  of  reading  aloud  as  he  wrote,  or 
of  imaginatively  hearing  his  words  pronounced,  would  have 
sufficed  to  prevent  his  displeasing  the  ear  with  repetitions  of 
sound  in  the  same  sentence  like  those  indicated  with  italics 
in  the  following  citations :  "  To  those  persons  the  Apostle 
points  out  that,  however  unconsciously,  they  are  in  point 
of  fact  giving  up  Christianity  altogether;  "  "  they  contributed 
largely  to  form  the  system  of  fantastic  error  which  took 
definite  forms,"  etc. ;  "  like  a  reckless  man  who  rides  at  full 


238  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

tilt  down  a  street  full  of  children  at  play;"  "some  persons 
who  would  be  distressed  at  the  idea  that  they  were  bad  Chris- 
tians, have  no  idea  at  all  of  the  truth  that  the  Christian 
Revelation,  if  accepted  at  all,  must  be  accepted  as  a  whole." 

All  the  minor  faults  hitherto  enumerated  are  such  that  they 
might  conceivably  have  been  splendidly  eclipsed;  but  there 
was  one  central  defect  in  Liddon's  equipment  which  inevit- 
ably left  him  hopelessly  short  of  great  mastery  in  style. 
He  had  not  sufficient  imagination.  He  could  write,  for  ex- 
ample, of  a  "  burden  of  fathomless  sorrow."  He  could  write 
(Bampton  Lectures,  p.  284)  of  "outbursts  [in  Paul]  by 
which  argument  suddenly  melts  into  stern  denunciation,  or 
into  versatile  expostulation,  or  into  irresistible  appeals  to 
sympathy,  or  into  the  highest  strains  of  lyrical  poetry." 
"  Argument "  here  "  melts  by  outbursts "  into  "  stern  de- 
nunciation " — "  melts  "  also  into  the  "  highest  strain  of  lyr- 
ical poetry."  That  is  well  thought  on  Liddon's  part,  but  not 
well  imagined;  in  fact,  not  imagined  at  all.  And  without 
imagination  there  is  no  such  thing  as  great  style. 

But  without  imagination  there  may  be  something  better 
than  great  style.  Moral  earnestness  may  be  a  buoyant  force 
that  shall  triumphantly  bear  the  subject  of  it,  even  without 
the  eagle's  wings  of  imagination,  into  a  region  of  truly 
elevated  eloquence.  This  is  illustrated  in  such  a  passage 
of  Liddon  as  the  following,  which  I  take  from  the  con- 
cluding pages  of  the  Bampton  Lectures.  Closely  observant 
readers  will  not  fail  to  note  how  it  is  the  high  ecclesiasticist, 
as  well  as  the  devout  and  confident  Christian,  that  speaks 
here  —  with  the  passing  glance  cast  at  threatened  disestab- 
lishment for  the  Church  of  England;  how  also  it  is  the 
sentinel  and  defender,  armed  and  alert,  of  the  faith  once 
for  all  delivered  to  the  saints  that  here  speaks,  and  speaks 
under  the  vividly  perceived  imminence  of  foes  to  that  faith, 
having  nothing  less  than  death  for  it  in  their  hearts : 

"  The  doctrine  of  Christ's  divinity  .  .  .  is  at  this  hour  the 
strength  of  the  Christian  Church.     There  are  forces  abroad  in 


HENRY  PARRY  LIDDON  239 

the  world  of  thought  which,  if  they  could  be  viewed  apart  from 
all  that  counteracts  them,  might  well  make  a  Christian  fear  for 
the  future  of  humanity.  It  is  not  merely  that  the  Church  is 
threatened  with  the  loss  of  possessions  secured  to  her  by  the 
reverence  of  centuries,  and  of  a  place  of  honor  which  may  per- 
haps have  guarded  civilization  more  effectively  than  it  can  be 
shown  to  have  strengthened  religion.  The  Faith  has  once  tri- 
umphed without  these  gifts  of  Providence;  and,  if  God  wills, 
she  can  again  dispense  with  them.  But  never,  since  the  first 
ages  of  the  Gospel,  was  fundamental  Christian  truth  denied 
and  denounced  so  largely,  and  with  such  passionate  animosity, 
as  is  the  case  at  this  moment  in  each  of  the  most  civilized  na- 
tions of  Europe.  It  may  be  that  God  has  in  store  for  His 
Church  greater  trials  to  her  faith  than  she  has  yet  experienced ; 
it  may  be  that,  along  with  the  revived  scorn  of  the  old  pagan 
spirit,  the  persecuting  sword  of  pagan  hatred  will  yet  be  un- 
sheathed. Be  it  so,  if  so  He  wills  it.  The  holy  city  is  strong 
in  knowing  '  that  God  is  in  the  midst  of  her,  therefore  shall  she 
not  be  removed ;  God  shall  help  her,  and  that  right  early.  The 
heathen  make  much  ado,  and  the  kingdoms  are  moved ;  but  God 
hath  shewed  His  Voice  and  the  earth  shall  melt  away.'  When 
the  waters  of  human  opinion  rage  and  swell,  and  the  mountains 
shake  at  the  tempest  of  the  same,  our  Divine  Lord  is  not  unequal 
to  the  defence  of  His  Name  and  His  Honor.  If  the  sky  seem 
dark  and  the  winds  contrary ;  if  ever  and  anon  the  strongest 
intellectual  and  social  currents  of  our  civilization  mass  them- 
selves threateningly,  as  if  to  overwhelm  the  holy  bark  as  she 
rides  upon  the  waves ;  we  know  Who  is  with  her,  unwearied  and 
vigilant,  though  He  should  seem  to  sleep.  His  presence  forbids 
despondency ;  His  presence  assures  us  that  a  cause  which  has 
consistently  conquered  in  its  day  of  apparent  failure,  cannot  but 
calmly  abide  the  issue.  Although  the  fig-tree  shall  not  blossom, 
neither  shall  fruit  be  in  the  vines ;  the  labor  of  the  olive  shall  fail, 
and  the  fields  shall  yield  no  meat;  the  flocks  shall  be  cut  off 
from  the  fold,  and  there  shall  be  no  herd  in  the  stalls :  yet  I  will 
rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I  will  joy  in  the  God  of  my  salvation." 

It  may  seem  almost  ungracious  to  find  anything  whatever 
not  entirely  admirable  in  a  passage  so  admirable  upon  the 
whole   as   the    foregoing;    but   one    is   irresistibly   prompted 


240 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


to  note  the  unconsciously  provincializing  effect,  making  itself 
felt  even  here,  from  Liddon's  ecclesiastic  quality.  How 
unaware  that  intellect  was,  that  intellect  by  nature  so  clear, 
but  by  habit  so  clouded  with  ecclesiasticism  —  how  unaware, 
that  at  the  very  moment  when  the  speaker  was  straining 
up  his  courage  to  say,  "  The  Faith  has  once  triumphed 
without  these  gifts  of  Providence  [state  subsidies] ;  and, 
if  God  wills,  she  can  again  dispense  with  them" — how 
unaware,  I  say,  was  Liddon  then,  that,  outside  of  "  the 
Church,"  indeed,  but  close  under  his  own  eyes,  had  his  eyes 
but  been  open  to  see  it,  "  the  Faith  "  was  triumphing  in  the 
"  self-organized  communities  of  Christians "  around  him, 
who,  not  only  without  the  "gifts  of  Providence"  referred 
to,  but  in  spite  of  those  "  gifts "  used  against  them,  and 
in  spite  of  being  taxed  to  help  supply,  themselves,  those 
"gifts"  so  used,  were  holding  forth  the  word  of  life  and 
standing  for  the  truth  of  the  Gospel !  It  is  a  real  pity  that, 
under  the  illusion  of  possessing  catholicity,  Liddon  should 
have  been  really  so  imperfectly  catholic.  The  unavoidable 
result  is,  to  affect  the  value  of  this  strenuous  spirit,  consid- 
ered as  a  champion  contending  for  the  true  church  universal, 
with  a  constant  coefificient  of  discount. 

The  very  first  discourse  !n  the  first  volume  of  Liddon's 
"  Easter  Sermons " —  there  are,  as  I  have  intimated,  two 
volumes  of  these  —  will  furnish  a  good  example  for  illus- 
tration both  of  his  characteristic  merit,  and  of  his  charac- 
teristic fault,  in  the  treatment  of  a  text.  The  text  is, 
"If  in  this  life  only  we  have  hope  in  Christ,  we  are  of  all 
men  most  miserable."  The  preacher  wishes  to  commence 
at  once  dealing  with  the  phase  of  critical  disbelief  that  at  the 
actual  moment  confronts  him.  That  phase  of  critical  dis- 
belief is  denial  of  the  literal  resurrection  of  Jesus,  coupled 
with  shallow-cheerful  pseudo-philosophical  undertaking  to 
show  that  Christianity  can  get  along  very  well  without  this 
its  key-stone  fact.  Liddon's  haste  to  get  to  his  true  point 
of  work  leads  him  unaware  to  treat  his  text  and  its  context 
with  unintentional  irreverence.     He  quotes:  "But  some  man 


HENRY  PARRY  LIDDON  241 

will  say,  *  How  are  the  dead  raised  up  ?  and  with  what  body 
do  they  come  ? ' "  And  then  says :  "  St.  Paul  answers  these 
questions  so  far  as  the  occasion  required;  and  he  then 
goes  on  to  a  point  of  even  graver  importance."  Now  the 
fact  is  that  Paul,  in  this  great  passage  of  his  teaching,  pur- 
sues just  the  opposite  order ;  he  first  takes  up  the  "  point 
of  even  graver  importance,"  and,  after  that,  raises  and 
answers  the  questions  quoted  by  Liddon. 
Canon  Liddon  proceeds  to  say: 

"  For  these  Greeks,  in  their  airy,  light-hearted,  careless  man- 
ner, would  seem  to  have  suggested  that  it  did  not  matter  very 
much  whether  the  Resurrection  were  true  or  not;  that  the  Res- 
urrection, however  interesting,  was  not  the  central  feature  in  the 
Christian  creed;  that  even  if  man  is  not  to  rise  hereafter,  and 
if  Christ  did  not  rise  on  the  third  day  from  the  dead,  Chris- 
tianity has  already  done,  and  will  yet  do,  very  much  for  man 
in  this  life  to  subdue  and  chasten  his  passions,  to  sweeten  his 
temper,  to  make  duty  welcome  and  sorrow  bearable,  and  the  re- 
lations of  men  with  each  other  kindly  and  unselfish.  These  Greek 
converts,  who  had  as  yet  so  much  to  learn  about  Christianity, 
would  suggest  that  the  Resurrection  was  a  matter  of  merely  intel- 
lectual interest,  lying  outside  the  real,  beneficent  and  moral  action 
of  Christianity :  so  that,  even  if  the  Apostle  who  preached  it 
was  wrong,  and  if  they  who  questioned  it  were  right,  there  was 
no  reason  for  discomfort  as  to  the  claims  or  worth  of  Chris- 
tianity as  a  whole.  Christianity  was  really,  they  thought,  inde- 
pendent of  the  question  and  would  survive  it. 

"  This  is  the  position  upon  which  St.  Paul  is  making  war  — 
with  which,  in  fact,  he  will  make  no  terms  whatever.  He  will 
not  allow  that  the  question  of  our  Lord's  Resurrection,  and  of 
the  general  Resurrection,  which  is  attested  by  it,  is  for  Chris- 
tianity anything  less  than  vital.  It  is  not  that  he  himself  is, 
after  all,  only  a  Jew  in  Christian  guise,  who  cannot  enter  into 
the  subtle  and  delicate  analysis  to  which  Greek  thought  must 
fain  submit  all  subjects  which  come  before  it.  It  is  not  that  as  a 
keen  dialectician  he  enjoys  the  intellectual  pleasure  of  forcing 
men  to  look  their  premises  in  the  face ;  of  making  them  accept 
unforeseen  and  possibly  unwelcome  conclusions  to  which  they  had 
by  implication  committed  themselves.  It  is  that  for  him  Chris- 
r 


242 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


tianity  is  bound  up  with  the  Resurrection  as  with  a  fact  insepa- 
rable from  its  existence.  He  cannot  detach  Christianity  from  this 
truth  after  the  fashion  of  those  off-hand  Corinthians ;  if  the  Res- 
urrection goes,  Christianity  goes  too;  it  vanishes  in  its  essence 
and  as  a  whole.  A  Christ  who  did  not  rise  is  not  the  illuminator 
or  the  Redeemer  of  men,  and  the  world  is  still  without  deliverance 
from  its  darkness  and  its  sin.  And  a  reason  for  this  is  that 
Christianity,  as  St.  Paul  thinks  of  it,  is  a  great  venture.  It  is  a 
venture  staked  upon  the  eternal  future.  It  bids  men  lay  out  their 
time,  and  dispose  of  their  lives,  and  order  their  daily  action  on 
the  supposition, —  the  tremendous  supposition  which  it  treats  as 
certain, —  that  this  life  is  but  a  preface,  and  a  very  short  preface, 
to  another  and  an  endless  life  that  will  follow.  And  the  war- 
rant for  doing  this  is  that  Christ  has  risen  from  the  dead,  and  has 
thus  shown  us  by  a  demonstration  addressed  to  sense  not  only  or 
chiefly  that  Death  is  not  the  end,  but  that  he  is  Lord  of  the  world 
beyond  the  grave ;  that  he  has  the  keys  of  hell  and  of  death.  But 
if  this  warrant  is  unsubstantial ;  if  this  venture  is  unwarranted ; 
if  in  this  life  only  we  have  hope  in  Christ,  we  have  indeed  made 
a  capital  mistake  and  are  of  all  men  most  miserable." 

In  the  foregoing,  we  undoubtedly  have  an  intelligent  and 
vividly  graphic  portrayal  of  the  aspect  presented  at  the 
actual  moment  by  the  pseudo-Christian,  critical  skepticism, 
which  so  lightly  kisses  the  Lord,  and  —  betrays  Him.  The 
whole  series  of  the  "  Easter  Sermons "  is,  in  fact,  substan- 
tially a  discussion,  from  various  points  of  view,  of  the 
vital  subject  suggested.  Nothing  could  be  more  opportune 
—  nothing  more  alive  with  the  life  of  to-day.  So  much  I 
fully  concede  in  Liddon's  favor.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
how  slightly,  how  slenderly,  the  introduction  of  this  partic- 
ular topic  is  connected  with  this  particular  text !  The 
Greeks  "  would  seem,"  etc.  How  "  would  seem "  ?  It  is 
not  too  strong  an  assertion  to  assert  that  there  is  nothing 
either  in  the  text,  or  in  the  context,  to  supply  the  preacher 
with  precisely  the  subject  that  he  treats.  In  fact  there  is 
nothing  in  the  whole  Scripture  passage  to  favor  the  idea 
that  the  Corinthian  Christians  ever  denied,  or  ever  thought 
of  denying,  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  —  much  less  the  idea 


HENRY  PARRY  LIDDON 


243 


that  they  rationalized  in  the  modern  manner  about  the  ease 
with  which  Christianity  might  do  without  this  key-stone  fact 
in  its  system.  On  the  contrary,  Paul  begins  with  pointing 
out  to  the  Corinthian  deniers  (not  of  the  past  resurrection 
of  Jesus,  but  of  the  future  resurrection  of  men)  a  certain 
inevitable  logical  consequence  of  their  denial,  a  consequence 
of  which  apparently  they  had  not  thought,  namely,  that  if 
there  were  no  resurrection  of  the  dead  then  there  had  been 
no  resurrection  of  Jesus.  Paul  wished  to  startle  them  back 
from  their  denial  of  the  resurrection  of  the  dead  in  general, 
by  showing  them  what  that  denial  involved  in  the  instance 
of  Jesus.  His  course  of  argument  throughout  assumes  that 
the  resurr-ection  of  Christ  was  admitted  by  those  to  whom 
he  writes;  nay,  he  confidently  builds  upon  this  admission 
on  their  part,  as  upon  a  corner  stone,  his  demonstration  to 
them  of  the  future  resurrection  of  the  dead.  Thus  com- 
pletely unwarranted  is  Liddon's  "  would  seem."  Dr.  Mac- 
laren  would  not  have  treated  his  text  in  this  fashion. 
Liddon  perhaps  would  not,  if  he  had  been,  in  his  habit  of 
thought,  as  cautiously  and  obediently  scriptural  as  he  was 
loyally  and  vigilantly  ecclesiastical.  A  doubt  is  irresistibly 
suggested.  Does  the  erection  of  "  The  Church "  into  an 
authority  coordinate  and  equal  with  Scripture,  inevitably 
tend  toward  making  Scripture  an  authority  second  and  sub- 
ordinate to  "  The  Church "  ?  The  fault  laid  to  Liddon's 
charge  at  this  point  does  not  vitiate  the  reasoning  on  his 
part,  independent  of  the  text,  that  follows.  What  he  goes 
on  to  say  remains  sound  and  good,  so  far  as  it  is  capable 
of  being  severed  from  relation  to  the  text ;  but  of  such  a  sev- 
erance the  ideal  sermon  is  not  capable. 

In  illustration  of  that  easier,  more  obvious,  opportuneness 
which  Liddon  wisely  and  successfully  cultivated,  take  the 
following  allusion  found  in  the  same  sermon: 

"  While  the  hours  of  last  year,  1882,  were  running  out,  an 
event  of  European  importance,  as  we  now  know,'  was  taking 
place.     The  most  powerful  man  in  France  was  dying.    And  one 


244         MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

of  the  first  events  in  this  present  year  upon  which  the  eyes  of 
Europe  were  fixed  was  Gambetta's  funeral.  Everything  was  done 
that  could  be  done  by  a  grateful  country  to  give  it  political 
importance.  The  State  paid  the  expenses,  and  nothing  on  the 
same  scale  of  splendor  and  publicity  had  been  seen  in  Paris  since 
Morny  was  buried.  And,  among  other  noticeable  circumstances 
in  connection  with  it,  this  was  especially  noticeable ;  —  that 
throughout  the  proceedings,  nothing  was  said  or  done  to  imply 
that  man  lives  after  death,  or  that  God,  or  the  religion  which 
binds  us  to  Him,  are  [is]  entitled  to  notice. 

"  It  could  not  be  but  that  such  a  circumstance  would  command 
much  and  anxious  attention  from  Christians,  as  well  as  from  the 
opponents  of  Christianity.  The  latter,  in  this  country,  as  else- 
where, insisted  upon  its  significance.  It  was  the  first  instance, 
they  said,  of  a  total  disregard  of  profession  of  faith  in  a  future, 
at  the  funeral  of  a  European  politician  of  the  first  rank.  Even 
Robespierre  had  been  eager  to  proclaim  his  belief  in  immortal- 
ity ;  and  many  a  man  in  high  position  who,  like  Talleyrand,  dur- 
ing life  might  have  repudiated  the  claims  of  religion,  had  wel- 
comed its  ministers  when  on  the  bed  of  death,  and  had  been 
interred  amid  the  words  of  hope,  the  prayers,  the  benedictions, 
which  are  so  dear  to  Christians.  Of  the  religious  worth  of  this 
tardy  or  posthumous  honor  to  religion,  I  am  not  now  speaking ; 
Gambetta's  funeral  may  have  been,  in  a  terrible  sense,  sincere. 
But  the  significant  thing  is  that  such  an  event  should  have  been 
possible.  It  meant  a  great  deal,  first  and  immediately  for  France, 
and  then,  more  remotely,  for  Europe.  It  showed,  that,  in  our 
day,  on  an  occasion  of  national  importance,  a  great  people  in  the 
heart  of  Christendom  could  officially  look  death  in  the  face,  and 
ignore  everything  that  follows  it." 

The  citations  from  Liddon  already  presented,  including 
the  foregoing  passage,  will  sufficiently  have  shown  that  his 
style  is,  not  to  say  diffuse,  at  least  very  full.  He  does 
not  produce  effects  by  powerful  sudden  condensations  of 
thought  or  feeling  into  vivid  brief  expression.  He  is  pri- 
marily and  preeminently  a  teacher,  not  an  orator. 

The  first  sermon  —  there  are  two  such  —  entitled  "  Chris- 
tianity without  the  Resurrection,"  may  be  studied  as  an 
example  of  Liddon  at  his  strongest.     If  an  example  of  him 


HENRY  PARRY  LIDDON  245 

at  his  weakest  be  sought,  perhaps  the  sermon  in  the  same 
volume  entitled  "  The  Power  of  the  Resurrection "  might 
fairly  be  regarded  as  supplying  it.  The  title  naturally 
raises  expectation  to  a  high  pitch  —  only,  however,  to  make 
the   sermon   more   decisively  disappointing. 

On  the  whole  it  may  be  said  that  the  kaleidoscopic  va- 
riety secured  by  Liddon  in  the  treatment  of  his  favorite 
great  topic  throughout  two  series  of  sermons,  does  not  pre- 
vent one's  experiencing  some  effect  of  repetition  and  monot- 
ony as  one  reads  the  discourses  consecutively.  But,  with 
whatever  just  abatements  made,  these  sermons,  and,  with 
these,  Liddon's  sermons  in  general,  must  be  pronounced  a 
substantial  contribution  to  permanent  homiletical  literature. 

In  fine.  Manly,  Christian,  earnest,  brave,  loyal  to  Scrip- 
ture, yet  loyal  to  "  Church  "  almost  more  than  to  Scripture, 
apostolic,  yet  hardly  less  sacerdotal  than  apostolic,  but  truly 
and  steadily  and  devotedly  evangelic  through  all,  a  scholar 
and  a  thinker  —  such  was  Liddon  the  man ;  and  of  necessity 
such,  intensely  such,  was  Liddon  the  preacher  —  a  great 
pulpit  teacher  rather  than  a  great  pulpit  orator,  a  master 
of  Christian  apologetics  for  his  generation,  who  lacked 
only  the  supreme  distinction  of  genius  to  be  a  classic  in 
literature,  as  well  as  what  he  indeed  was,  a  pontiff  without 
pontifical  place,  and  a  Father  of  the  Church  born  out  of 
due  time. 


IX 

EUGENE  BERSIER 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

It  is  now  something  more  than  forty  years  ago  that  I  first 
met  Eugene  Bersier.  I  had  —  very  early  in  active  life  — 
gone  upon  the  invalid  list,  and,  utterly  prostrate  with  the 
added  exhaustion  of  passion  for  my  country  in  the  supreme 
throe  of  her  agony  for  continued  existence,  fled  to  Europe 
for  respite  and  rest.  The  winter  of  1861-62  I  spent  in  Paris. 
I  shall  never  forget  how  grateful  to  me  were  the  prayers 
that  I  heard  from  the  touched  lips  of  the  young  pastor  of 
I'&glise  Svangelique,  lifted  up,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  on 
behalf  of  my  suffering  country.  That  young  pastor  was 
Eugene  Bersier.  I  sought  a  meeting  with  him  to  thank 
him  for  his  thought  before  God  of  my  native  land.  I  found 
that  he  knew  something  of  us  Americans  by  personal  ac- 
quaintance; for  he  had  been  a  year  or  two  resident  in  our 
country.  That  circumstance,  of  course,  heightened  the  vivid- 
ness of  his  individual  sympathy  for  the  American  nation  in 
her  hour  of  trial. 

During  that  whole  winter  I  often,  indeed  almost  regularly, 
heard  M.  Bersier  preach.  I  also  saw  him  and  heard  him, 
again  and  again,  in  the  weekly  prayer-meetings  of  his  church. 
He  was  a  noble-looking  young  man,  with  a  sweet,  rich  voice 
that  added  full  weight  to  the  impression  of  his  personal 
presence.  There  was  a  dignity,  mingled  with  a  simplicity, 
in  his  bearing,  a  fervor,  enkindling  a  sobriety,  in  his  thought, 
a  force,  always  admirably  within  measure,  in  his  utterance, 
that  gave  promise  of  the  eminence  as  preacher  in  due  time 
to  be  his.  He  adapted  himself,  as  the  true  preacher  will,  to 
the  capacities  and  the  needs  of  his  hearers ;  but  there  was  an 

249 


250  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

elevation,  an  aspiration,  in  his  discourse,  as  of  instinctive, 
irrepressible  buoyancy  toward  a  level  that  was  higher,  that 
was  ideal.  You  were  irresistibly  reminded  of  the  standard 
set  by  the  great  classic  preachers  of  France.  Here  might 
be  a  future  Bossuet,  a  future  Massillon,  mingled,  in  one 
man,  who  then  would  be  a  truly  greater  than  either.  It  was 
therefore,  to  me  no  surprise  that  Eugene  Bersier  afterward 
ran  the  shining  career  that  he  did.  It  was  the  only  legitimate 
fulfilment  of  the  auguries  with  which  he  set  out.  Alas,  that 
he  touched  his  goal  so  soon ! 

Sixteen  years  ago,  I  met  him  once  more.  The  radiant 
young  man  that  I  remembered  had  grown  to  "  reverence  and 
the  silver  hair."  But  the  port  was  as  erect  as  ever,  and 
there  was,  in  his  apparent  health  and  strength,  the  promise 
of  at  least  a  quarter  of  a  century  more  of  ever-increasing 
power  to  be  wielded  by  him  for  Christ.  In  reply  to  my 
questions,  he  told  me  of  the  volumes  of  sermons,  six  or  seven 
in  number,  that  he  had  published,  and  alluded,  with  frank 
and  manly,  and  perfectly  modest,  pleasure  to  the  currency 
they  had  found,  not  only  in  France,  but  elsewhere  in  Europe. 
He  presented  me  a  copy  of  his  last  volume,  enhancing  its 
value  by  his  autograph  in  it.  He  also  gave  me  his  historical 
monograph,  making  a  large  and  handsome  book,  on  Admiral 
Coligny,  that  heroic  Protestant  confessor  and  martyr,  of  days 
which  fell  so  evil  for  France.  I  cheered  myself  silently  with 
the  hope  that  I  might  soon  make  return,  however  inadequate, 
in  kind,  for  these  valued  volumes.  Death  was  to  be  before- 
hand with  me!  But  I  meantime  had  been  doing  my  best 
at  the  books,  for  return,  books  which  were  to  be  —  unless 
death  should  be  otherwise  beforehand  with  me  again ! 

I  said  to  M.  Bersier,  "  How  little  we  thought,  when  you 
were  sympathizing  so  affectionately  with  us,  in  our  national 
troubles,  that  the  hour  of  France  to  suffer,  even  worse  than 
we,  was  so  near !  "    "  Yes ;  in  eight  years  was  to  come  our 


EUGENE  BERSIER 


251 


struggle  with  Germany.  That  we  could  bear;  for,  to  every 
nation  sooner  or  later  arrives  its  time  of  defeat.  But  the 
Commune, —  that  was  dreadful  indeed;  for  in  that  we  were 
destroying  ourselves, —  we  were  committing  the  crime  and 
the  folly  of  suicide.  During  the  siege  of  Paris,  our  straits 
were  extreme,  both  from  danger  and  from  lack  of  food. 
It  was  a  red-letter  day  at  my  house,  during  the  time  of  the 
worst  with  the  city,  when  we  could  get  a  rat  for  our  table. 
Bombs  from  the  enemy's  guns  fell  everywhere  about  us.  One 
fell  into  my  own  study.  But  all  this  terror  and  famine  were 
as  nothing  compared  with  the  shame  and  horror  of  the 
Commune !  " 

I  had  read  such  things;  I  knew  well  that  they  happened; 
but  hearing  them  on  the  spot,  from  the  lips  of  a  personal 
sufferer,  gave  a  living  sense  of  reality  such  as  I  had  never 
experienced  before.  But  it  was  almost  impossible,  after 
all,  to  conceive  the  truth.  That  a  refined  and  cultivated 
gentleman,  a  man  with  distinction  marked  so  legibly  in  his 
very  person  and  manner,  that  such  a  man  as  I  saw  before 
me,  had  actually,  there,  in  the  "  high  capital "  itself  of  luxury, 
been  reduced  to  the  extremity  of  rejoicing  in  a  ragout  of 
rat  for  his  dinner, —  well,  I  had  to  believe  it,  but  I  could 
not  conceive  it! 

Of  the  volume  of  sermons  which  I  brought  away  as  a 
souvenir  of  that  interview,  I  may  testify  without  reserve  that 
purer  gold  of  thought  better  beaten  into  perfect  expression. 
I  should  not  know  where  t©  look  for  in  any  volume  of 
sermons.  It  has  been  in  my  way  to  make  some  study  of 
Bossuet,  of  Massillon,  of  Bourdaloue,  and  of  Saurin,  and 
I  can  truly  say  that,  in  summary  of  merit,  the  average  sermon 
of  Bersier  need  not  fear  a  comparison  with  the  average  ser- 
mon of  any  one  of  those  masters  of  pulpit  eloquence.  If  Wil- 
liam Jay  was  justified  in  learning  French,  as  I  believe  he  did 
learn  it,  that  he  might  read  the  great  seventeenth-century 


252  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT.  DISCOURSE 

preachers  of  France  in  the  language  in  which  they  spoke, 
any  minister,  I  may  boldly  say  it,  with  aptitude  for  master- 
ing languages,  who  has  not  already  mastered  French,  would 
be  justified,  and  still  more  amply,  in  learning  French  that  he 
might  read  the  sermons  of  Eugene  Bersier ;  for,  besides  being 
sermons  of  the  highest  class  as  to  literary  and  oratorical 
form,  they  discuss  the  living  questions  of  to-day  with  mas- 
terly strength,  and  to  an  issue  in  accordance  with  the  sim- 
plicity that  is  in  Christ 


EUGENE  BERSIER 

If  a  Greek  critic  of  the  Attic  prime,  supposed  living  again 
among  us  moderns,  should,  merely  from  the  point  of  view 
of  oratoric  art,  compare  the  achievements  in  pulpit  elo- 
quence of  the  various  races  of  mankind,  it  would  no  doubt 
be  to  French  preachers  that  he  would  award  the  palm  of 
supremacy.  Among  those  French  preachers  (of  whatever 
time)  such  a  critic,  free  from  every  prepossession,  would, 
I  feel  sure,  find  no  one  superior  to  the  subject  of  the  present 
paper.  Critics  less  severe  and  less  severely  Greek  —  Asiatic, 
let  us  say,  rather  than  Attic  —  might  pronounce  a  different 
judgment.  A  warping  influence  admitted  from  an  admix- 
ture of  romanticism  in  the  literary  taste,  might  not  un- 
naturally lead  to  a  preference  of  something  English  or  of 
something  American  over  anything  French.  But  to  a  pure 
Attic  critical  sense  the  French  would  infallibly  seem  finer. 
And  of  the  French,  as  I  said,  nothing  would  seem  more 
free  from  fault  or  defect  than  the  eloquence  of  Eugene 
Bersier. 

It  is  thus  a  very  high,  but  it  is  also  a  somewhat  peculiar, 
praise  that  I  bestow  on  this  eminent  French  preacher.  I 
prepare,  as  far  as  I  may,  my  readers  for  considering  the 
claims  of  a  master  in  pulpit  oratory  who  is  contrasted,  but 
rather  in  quality  than  in  quantity  of  merit,  with  all  of  his 
peers  in  the  list  of  illustrious  names  furnishing  subjects 
for  the  present  series  of  papers.  It  is  Attic  performance 
that  is  here  to  be  judged;  we  must  apply  Attic  canons  of 
art  and  Attic  standards  of  taste  in  judging  it. 

This  means,  of  course,  that  nothing  to  strike  by  eccen- 
tricity, extravagance,  excess,  no  indulgence  of  individual 
caprice,  no  lawlessness  willing  to  be  mistaken  for  inde- 
pendence, no  sins  against  taste  hoping  to  pass  for  audacities 

253 


254  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

of  genius,  no  violences  of  expression  doing  duty  for  orig- 
inalities of  thought  —  nothing  whatever  of  this  sort  need  be 
looked  for  in  Bersier.  All  with  him  is  measure,  proportion, 
propriety,  pure  taste,  sound  judgment,  undisturbed  dom- 
inance of  the  rule  of  not  too  much,  order,  harmony,  power 
working  in  obedience  to  law.  In  short,  Bersier's  excellence 
is  of  just  that  rare  kind,  the  irreproachable,  the  perfect, 
which,  as  it  is  the  most  difficult  to  achieve,  is  Hkewise  the 
most  difficult  to  display.  It  is  like  a  sphere  that  you  could 
not  take  in  your  hand  to  show,  because  it  is  too  large  to 
grasp,  and  because  it  offers  no  protuberance,  no  irregularity, 
upon  which  you  might  seize. 

I  must  at  once  guard  myself  against  being  misunderstood 
to  imply  that  Bersier's  excellence  is  negative  merely,  or 
mainly,  that  it  consists  in  exemption  from  fault.  This  is 
far  from  being  the  fact.  Bersier  was  a  man  of  genius, 
or  of  a  talent  approaching  to  genius.  He  had  passion 
enough,  imagination  enough,  to  have  made  him  successful 
by  sensational  oratory  —  had  he  not  had  also  taste  enough, 
judgment  enough,  conscience  enough,  will  enough,  to  refuse 
to  those  qualities  the  necessary  over-indulgence.  The  result 
in  him  of  the  exquisite  balance  thus  indicated,  of  qualities 
mental  and  moral,  was  a  pulpit  orator  in  whom  everything 
desirable  was  present  and  everything  present  in  desirable 
proportion  —  in  fact,  a  pulpit  orator,  for  completeness  and 
symmetry  of  intellectual  and  ethical  equipment,  as  nearly 
ideal  as  any  age,  or  any  race,  could  show. 

What  I  have  thus  far  said  might  be  true  of  the  orator 
Bersier  as  he  appears  in  his  printed  sermons,  and  quite 
fail  of  truth  in  application  to  the  living  man  as  he  appeared 
in  the  pulpit.  Most  felicitously,  however,  the  correspond- 
ence between  the  oratory  that  is  still  to  be  read  in  Bersier's 
sermons,  and  the  oratory  that  was  silenced  forever  when 
Bersier  died,  is  absolute  and  complete. 

The  present  writer  has,  in  the  case  of  Bersier  as  well 
as  in  the  case  of  every  other  pulpit  orator  here  treated 
by  him,  with  the  two  exceptions  of  Cardinal  Newman  and 


EUGENE  BERSIER 


255 


Canon  Lidclon,  enjoyed  the  advantage  of  hearing  the  preach- 
er's living  voice  from  the  pulpit,  in  addition  to  reading  his 
sermons  fixed  in  print.  He  writes  these  words  under  the 
vivid  sense  of  personal  impression  recently  renewed  in 
meeting  the  distinguished  subject  face  to  face  after  an 
interval  of  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  elapsed  since, 
during  a  memorable  winter  in  Paris,  he  was  a  somewhat 
regular  attendant  at  the  services  of  the  church  (L'^glise 
£vangcliquc,  then  so  called)  in  which  Bersier  was  at  that 
time  one  of  the  several  associate  pastors. 

How  brightly  I  remember  the  Eugene  Bersier  that  then 
was!  His  fame  was  still  before  him,  but  the  manifest  po- 
tentiality of  fame,  granted  only  the  necessary  years,  was 
already  his.  In  the  bloom  and  promise  of  that  manly  juve- 
nescence,  he  was  a  mirror  of  everything  noble  and  beautiful 
to  look  upon  in  face  and  form ;  and  when  maturity  touched 
him  to  the  mellowness  of  a  manhood  in  which  the  triumph 
of  youth  yielded  to  a  benignant  prophecy  of  approaching 
age,  he  became  a  reverend  figure,  to  the  last  unbent,  wear- 
ing a  crown  of  silvering  hair  above  a  brow  calm  with  power 
and  a  countenance  heroically  molded  and  illumined  with 
benevolence ;  a  reverend  figure,  I  say,  one  as  to  which  you 
would  on  reflection  be  uncertain  whether  its  chief  effect  was 
that  of  grace  or  that  of  majesty.  Bersier's  voice,  rich  and 
sweet  and  strong,  was  highly  penetrable  to  emotion,  answer- 
ing easily  in  its  tones  to  the  unction  that  seemed  then  so 
marked  a  trait  in  the  spirit  of  its  owner.  To  sum  up  all 
again  in  a  word,  and  that  word  the  same  as  before,  the 
physical  oratoric  equipment  of  this  preacher  was  complete. 

Bersier's  native  gifts  being  such,  he  made  his  choice  of 
standards  and  models  for  pulpit  achievement  appropriately 
pure  and  high.  He  was  nobly  severe  with  himself,  exacting 
from  his  genius  its  most  arduous  best.  Then,  too,  besides 
the  spur  within  himself  that  he  felt  pricking  him  to  his  own 
finest  possibilities,  he  had  stimulation  from  without,  in  ac- 
complished and  distinguished  colleagues,  of  whom  Pressense, 
a  kinsman  of  his,  was  one,  and  in  accomplished  and  distin- 


256  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

guished  auditors  and  friends  —  among  these  was  M.  R.  St. 
Hilaire,  a  professor  in  the  Sorbonne  —  who,  I  beheve,  did 
not  spare  to  the  youthful  preacher  their  loyal  senior  cheer- 
ings  or  chidings,  as  occasion  might  seem  to  demand  from 
them  the  one  or  the  other.  More,  perhaps,  than  these  spurs, 
present  and  pressing  at  his  side,  Bersier  felt  the  genius  and 
the  fame  of  his  great  predecessors,  the  French  preachers  of 
other  ages,  incessantly  calling  him  upward  to  ever  higher 
and  higher  achievement  in  the  eloquence  of  the  pulpit. 

I  have  thus  spoken  of  motive  appealing  to  the  "  natural 
man,"  in  the  subject  of  this  paper.  Such  motive,  I  am 
sure,  worked  in  Bersier  and  worked  with  power.  But  the 
"  spiritual  man,"  after  all,  was  dominant  in  him.  You  un- 
mistakably feel  in  his  sermons  the  pulse  of  a  heart  and  a 
conscience  beating,  and  controllingly  beating,  from  the  will 
of  Christ  as  a  personal  Master  profoundly  acknowledged 
by  the  preacher  to  be  worthy  of  his  own  supreme  affectionate 
obedience.  Duty  to  Christ  kept  Bersier's  ambition  at  the 
same  time  humble  and  high,  at  the  same  time  high  and 
steady.  He  maintained  long  a  remarkably  even  tenor  —  for 
a  tenor  so  exalted  —  of  attempt  and  of  accomplishment  in 
the  work  of  the  preacher.  This  might  have  been  left  to  be 
merely  matter  of  oral  tradition  among  those  who  heard 
Bersier's  sermons  living  from  the  preacher's  own  lips ;  but 
fortunately  there  survives  a  monumental  record  of  the  fact 
in  a  series  of  printed  volumes  of  his  sermons,  issued  at 
irregular  intervals  during  twenty  years  or  more  of  the 
course  of  his  ministry,  which  who  will  may  read  and  test 
for  himself  the  truth  of  my  judgment.  These  sermons 
have  qualities,  of  substance  in  thought  and  of  form  in  ex- 
pression, which  richly  entitle  them  to  go  permanently  into 
the  literature  of  the  author's  native  country.  They  have 
many  of  them  been  translated  into  foreign  tongues,  and 
they  are  perhaps  now  fairly  in  a  way  to  be  even  incor- 
porated into  the  classic  literature  of  the  world. 

"  Of  the  author's  native  country,"  I  have  said ;  as  if 
Eugene  Bersier  were  a  native  of  France.    He  in  fact  was 


EUGENE  BERSIER 


257 


by  birth  a  Swiss.  This  circumstance  does  not,  however, 
alter  the  essential  fact  in  the  case ;  for  Bersier's  extraction 
was  from  the  Huguenots,  and  he  was  virtually  a  native 
Frenchman,  who  simply  happened  to  be  born  out  of  France. 

In  pronouncing  Bersier  worthy  to  be  a  classic  in  French 
literature,  I  do  not  mean  to  predict  the  actual  future  for- 
tune of  his  fame.  He  may,  or  he  may  not,  in  fact,  take 
his  deserved  rank  as  an  author.  To  produce,  in  the  case 
of  any  given  man,  the  result  of  historic  literary  fame,  many 
things  must  conspire  —  many  things  besides  the  man's  own 
intrinsic  desert.  What  fixed  Bossuet,  Massillon,  Bourda- 
loue,  as  secular  stars  in  the  literary  firmament  of  France, 
was  far  from  being  merely  the  indisputable  transcendent 
merit  of  the  genius  and  achievement  of  those  men.  Quite  as 
much  it  was  the  splendor  of  the  auspices  under  which  they 
were  first  launched  luminous  on  their  magnificent  orbits. 
The  "  great  monarch,"  Louis  XIV.,  set  his  royal  signet  upon 
them,  and  authoritatively  pronounced  them  great.  Under 
his  august  and  absolute  sentence,  they  were  admitted  great 
so  long  that  finally  their  past  fame  of  itself  made  their 
future  fame  secure.  Besides  this,  the  Gallican  Church  of 
their  time  was  still,  for  France,  the  omnipotent  arbitress 
of  destiny  in  the  sphere  of  human  opinion.  She  commanded 
and  it  stood  fast.  The  Church  was  the  world,  then,  in 
France  —  the  world  in  its  pride  of  power  to  declare  admir- 
able and  to  have  admirable  whatsoever  it  pleased.  The 
Church  which  was  the  world,  declared  admirable  these  great 
preachers ;  and  admirable  they  continued  to  be  in  the  national 
regard,  until  to  question  their  oratoric  supremacy  became 
permanently  and  hopelessly  a  thing  impossible,  ridiculous. 
They  passed  into  history.  They  were  part  of  the  indestruc- 
tible  intellectual   glory  of   France. 

Well,  examine  the  surviving  works  of  these  seventeenth 
century  Frenchmen,  and  you  find  them  full  worthy  of  their 
fame.  They  really  are  what  they  came  to  be  reputed.  But 
now  examine  in  comparison  the  works  of  Eugene  Bersier, 
supposed  for  the  moment  to  be  securely  admitted  of  equal 
Q 


258  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

fame  with  the  works  of  his  predecessors  of  the  golden  age 
of  France.  Do  you  find  these  recent  works,  upon  proof, 
equally  worthy  of  their  supposedly  equal  fame?  I,  for  my 
part,  do  not  hesitate  to  answer,  Yes. 

But  Bersier  lacked  arena  like  that  which  was  Bossuet's, 
Massillon's,  Bourdaloue's,  even  Saurin's,  for  running  his 
rival  oratoric  career.  There  was  for  him  no  "  great  mon- 
arch," sitting  in  state,  surrounded  by  his  court,  to  watch 
and  to  applaud  and  finally  to  award  the  prize  as  with  the 
"  perfect  witness  of  all-judging  Jove."  More  important  yet, 
the  face  of  the  world  had,  by  Bersier's  time,  been  completely 
changed  from  what  it  was  at  that  earlier  day.  The  world 
wore  no  longer  now  the  mask  of  the  Church.  Nominal 
religion  no  longer  sat  on  the  throne.  The  power  of  intel- 
lectual preferment  was  lodged  in  other  than  ecclesiastical 
hands.  Science  had  taken  the  place  of  nominal  religion. 
The  pulpit  preached  now  in  an  atmosphere  in  which  the 
elemental  conditions  were  wanting,  productive  of  the  thun- 
der and  lightning  that  so  magnificently  played  about  the 
Olympus  whence  Bossuet,  Massillon,  Bourdaloue  fulmined 
of  old.  There  was  "  no  motion  in  the  dumb  dead  air "  of 
the  great  world  around  him  responsive  to  the  living  elo- 
quence of  Bersier.  The  eloquence  was  present,  but  the  efifect 
of  the  eloquence  failed. 

That  is,  of  course  I  mean,  the  brilliant  immediate  effect 
of  wide  intellectual  impression,  of  sympathetic  appreciation, 
admiration,  applause,  from  the  world.  There  was  support- 
ing and  inspiring  recognition  from  a  few  —  comparatively 
few  —  chosen  spirits;  but  the  great  world  was  deaf  and  was 
dumb.  The  reflex  depressing  influence  on  Bersier  himself 
could  not  but  have  worked  somewhat  to  damp  in  him  the 
merely  natural  ardor  of  a  fine  oratoric  genius  and  ambition. 
Doubtless  the  monuments  of  eloquence  that  he  has  left 
behind  him  are  less  —  less  splendid,  and  perhaps  less  nu- 
merous—  than  those  which  he  would  have  left,  had  the 
conditions  under  which  he  worked  been,  in  the  respects 
indicated,  more  friendly.    The  true  triumph,  however,  which 


EUGENE  BERSIER 


259 


would  then  have  been  his  —  the  true  intellectual  and,  much 
more,  the  true  moral  triumph  —  could  not,  under  the  sup- 
posed different  conditions,  have  been  greater  than  that  which 
he   actually  achieved. 

For  Bersier  never  permitted  any  sense  that  may  have 
been  in  him  of  personal  disappointment,  of  egoistic  unease, 
at  the  indifference  toward  his  pulpit  of  the  general  world,  to 
creep,  even  as  an  unconfessed  undertone,  into  his  sermons. 
Much  less  did  he  ever  stoop  to  attempt  capturing  the  atten- 
tion of  the  world  either  by  any  sacrifice  of  the  truth  of  the 
Gospel,  or  by  use  of  any  arts  of  popularity  misbecoming  to 
the  pulpit,  in  his  way  of  presenting  that  truth.  Both  as  to 
the  substance  of  what  he  taught  and  as  to  the  form  of  his 
teaching  it,  he  loyally  held  fast  to  the  simplicity  that  is 
in  Christ.  So  far,  indeed,  was  he  from  stooping  to  the 
world  in  order  to  conquer  the  world  —  that  is,  in  order 
to  seem  to  conquer  the  world,  really  capitulating  to  it  — 
so  far  was  Bersier  from  this,  that  he  instead  constantly 
faced  the  world  and  accused  the  world  and  condemned  the 
world  —  I  mean  that  world  of  arrogant,  browbeating,  ag- 
gressive "  advanced  thought,"  thus  self-styled,  which  in 
his  time  had  succeeded  to  that  world,  so  different,  of  con- 
ventional conformity  to  the  Church,  which  existed  in  the 
seventeenth  century  of  France.  This  new  intellectual  world 
Bersier  confronted,  not  conciliated. 

He  confronted  it,  but  not  in  the  spirit  of  blind  and  bigoted 
pugnacity.  He  took  pains  to  understand  the  world  that  he 
opposed.  Indeed,  nothing  is  more  admirable  than  the  open- 
eyed  intelligence  of  Bersier's  antagonism  to  the  world 
that  he  felt  bound  to  challenge  and  resist.  He  knew  and 
he  comprehended,  for  he  had  studied  and  he  had  meditated, 
what  the  world  had  to  say  in  objection  to  the  Gospel. 
He  therefore  did  not  beat  the  air  with  the  blows  that  he 
delivered ;  he  delivered  his  blows  fairly  between  the  very 
eyes  of  the  falsehood  that  stood  up  in  his  presence  against 
the  truth  of  Christ. 

This  he  did  —  and   it  was   a   signal  homiletic   victory  — 


26o  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

without  either,  on  the  one  hand,  converting  his  sermon  into 
a  mere  polemic  and  invective  against  unbeHef,  or,  on  the 
other  hand,  letting  his  sermon  degenerate  into  a  philosoph- 
ico-religious  dissertation.  His  sermons  are  proper  sermons, 
as  being  popular  discourses,  and  they  are  proper  sermons 
also  as  being  nutritive  of  the  spiritual  life.  Read  them 
as  correctives  of  tendency  in  you  to  give  way  before  the 
audacious  claims  of  science  advanced  against  religion,  and 
you  will  find  them  so  good  that  you  will  hardly  wish 
better.  Read  them  as  food  to  personal  piety,  and  you  will 
feel  them  wholesome  and  strengthening.  Still  it  is  a  fact 
that  intelligent,  vigilant,  skilled  antagonism  and  fence 
against  modern  —  the  most  modern  —  infidelity  is  a  very 
marked  characteristic  of  many  among  Bersier's  published 
sermons.  In  truth,  take,  for  instance,  his  sixth  volume,  and 
you  will  find  the  proportion  of  the  virtually  apologetic  or  con- 
troversial element  in  it  so  considerable  that  you  would  feel 
compelled  to  pronounce  excessive  such  a  proportion  assumed 
uniformly  to  prevail  throughout  the  general  tenor  of  Ber- 
sier's pastoral  preaching.  An  assumption,  however,  like 
that  would  no  doubt  do  him  injustice.  It  is  fair  to  suppose 
that,  in  choosing  for  publication  from  among  his  ordinary 
discourses,  the  author  would,  by  a  natural  and  a  wise  in- 
stinct, be  led  to  pitch  by  preference,  in  a  disproportionate 
number  of  cases,  upon  such  as  might  be  conjectured  to  have 
an  intellectual  added  to  their  spiritual  interest. 

Mr.  Spurgeon  was,  in  this  respect,  an  almost  solitary  ex- 
ception among  ministers  that  published  their  sermons. 
Somewhat  in  contrast  with  what  is  true  in  the  case  of  the 
Frenchman,  the  Englishman's  audience  of  the  press  seems 
to  be  made  up  of  average  ordinary  persons  endowed  with 
an  appetite  that  may  be  relied  upon  for  commonplace  spirit- 
ual nurture.  That  Mr.  Spurgeon's  audience  should  be  pre- 
dominantly such  is  not  because  that  great  popular  preacher 
was  not  himself  a  thinking  man,  quite  as  capable  as  other 
thinking  men,  of  wrestling  with  intellectual  and  spiritual 
doubts  and  fears.    It  is  not  because  he  could  not  at  need 


EUGENE  BERSIER  261 

compose  in  a  close-woven,  most  vital,  tissue  of  style,  tense 
with  thought  and  with  reason.  This,  in  occasional,  not 
infrequent  utterances  of  his,  he  (when  out  of  his  pulpit,  as 
sometimes,  also,  when  in)  abundantly  showed  that  he  could 
do.  It  is  rather  because  Mr.  Spurgeon,  whether  wisely  or 
not,  chose  to  make  his  sermons,  even  his  printed  sermons, 
for  the  most  part  unconscious  of  the  unsettlement  in  belief 
that  he  knew  to  be  everywhere  rife  around  him. 

Not  so,  in  this  last  respect,  was  it  with  Bersier,  Bersier, 
in  his  sermons,  was  frankly  sensitive  to  the  intellectual 
life  of  his  time.  As  he  felt,  so  in  his  pulpit  he  confessed, 
the  sympathy  of  his  generation.  He  had  —  at  least  one 
seems  compelled  to  believe  that  he  had  —  his  own  intimate 
personal  need  of  satisfactory  reconcilement  between  reason 
and  revelation.  He  found  his  solution,  and  his  solution 
found,  he  thought  it  wise  —  as,  for  him,  the  present  writer 
holds  that  it  was  truly  wise  —  to  supply  to  his  fellows. 

It  is  time,  no  doubt,  that  generalization  now  be  elucidated 
with  instance.  But  I  pause  a  moment  to  dispose  first  of 
a  thought  which,  with  some  readers,  may  have  been  started 
by  my  conjecture  (it  was,  of  course,  however  confident,  no 
more  than  conjecture)  as  to  the  working  in  Bersier's  mind 
of  his  natural  noble  ambition  to  achieve  great  things  in 
the  pulpit;  and  his  accompanying  consciousness  that,  for 
the  achieving  of  things  great  in  the  judgment  of  the  world, 
there  was  wanting  to  him  the  spacious,  the  conspicuous, 
arena  which  would  have  been  desirable.  Those  who  know 
of  the  very  important  change  that,  at  the  acme  of  his  earlier 
fame,  Bersier  made  in  his  ecclesiastical  relations,  may  not 
unnaturally  be  tempted  to  ask.  How  much,  in  the  making 
of  that  change,  was  Bersier  drawn  on,  whether  consciously 
or  not,  by  the  partly  personal  hope  of  bettering  his  oppor- 
tunity to  produce  the  strong  impression,  as  for  his  message, 
so  likewise  for  himself,  which  he  could  not  but  feel  his 
own  inherent  right  to  produce,  on  the  great  indififerent 
world  around  him?  An  obvious  doubt  and  question  to  raise, 
but  one  which  it  would  obviously  be  improper  to  entertain. 


262  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

or,  at  any  rate,  publicly  discuss.  The  change  to  which  I 
refer  was  this :  From  being  pastor  in  the  "  Free  Church," 
a  comparatively  young,  poor,  and  obscure  ecclesiastical  body, 
whose  vital  principle  was  conscientious  separation  from  the 
State,  Bersier  became  auxiliary-pastor,  so-called,  in  the 
Reformed  Church  of  France,  an  ecclesiastical  body  com- 
paratively rich,  while  also  august  with  age  and  history 
dating  from  the  heroic  times  of  the  great  Reformation, 
but  so  far  a  religious  "  establishment "  as  to  consent  to 
receive  subsidies  from  the  State  and  to  submit  to  the  State 
supervision  which   that  consent  logically   implies. 

This  was  a  momentous  change  for  Bersier  to  make.  I 
need  not  conceal  my  own  profound  regret  that  he  made 
it.  True,  he  continued  to  protest  his  own  individual  adhe- 
sion in  theory  to  the  principle  of  complete  separation  be- 
tween Church  and  State.  True,  also,  the  local  Church 
of  which  he  was  founder  and  pastor  never,  in  fact,  accepted 
those  State  subsidies,  which,  however,  as  matter  of  right, 
he  still  insisted  on  its  title  to  accept.  Of  course,  had  Ber- 
sier made  exactly  the  opposite  change  —  that  is,  had  he 
gone  over  from  the  worldly  higher  to  the  worldly  lower 
ecclesiastical  body  —  there  would  then  have  been  no  possi- 
bility of  imputing  to  him  any  but  the  purest  and  noblest 
motives.  But  then,  as  the  case  actually  stands,  it  certainly 
is  quite  conceivable  that  his  spirit  may  have  been  not  less 
self-sacrificing  than  one  must  assume  it  would  necessarily 
have  been  in  the  case  which,  in  point  of  fact,  did  not  occur. 
He  may  —  who  knows? — acting  from  convictions  the  most 
conscientious,  frankly  have  faced  the  possibility  of  being 
misunderstood  by  some  to  his  harm,  and  still  have  done  only 
what  he  thought  was  his  duty,  even  at  that  cost,  so  heavy 
to  a  high  and  delicate  spirit  like  his. 

Bersier  undoubtedly  thought  that  the  time  was  not  yet 
come  in  France  for  the  complete  consistent  carrying  out 
in  practice  of  the  theory,  which  he  believed  to  be  true,  that 
the  Church  should  be  wholly  divorced  from  the  State.  He 
thought  that  to  cut  loose  from  the  national  Reformed  Church 


EUGENE  BERSIER  263 

of  his  country  was  virtually  to  abandon  a  noble  and  fruitful 
history  of  three  hundred  Protestant  years,  a  history  which 
the  cause  of  French  Protestantism  needed,  and  to  which  it 
had  an  indefeasible  right.  The  venerable  traditions  of  the 
past  had  a  peculiar,  a  sovereign,  charm  for  the  genius  and 
imagination  of  Bersier.  In  truth,  partly  without  knowing 
it,  he  was,  so  it  seems  to  me,  in  fundamental  spirit  a  con- 
servative, not  to  say  a  reactionary,  and  withal  an  ecclesias- 
ticist,  a  pontiff,  like  Bossuet  —  a  pontiff  like  him,  while  a 
man  very  different;  very  different,  not  only  by  nature,  but 
by  such  habit  of  life  as  must  make  different  the  man  set 
through  meet  and  happy  marriage  in  the  midst  of  domestic 
relationships,  from  the  man  who  prolongs  his  days  an 
inveterate  compulsory  celibate.  Of  course,  I  well  know 
how  generously  open  to  ideas  Bersier  was,  how  hospitable 
to  truth,  how  liberal  and  friendly  toward  true  progress  of 
every  sort.  This  was  in  part  due  to  fortunate  temperament 
in  him;  but  still  more,  I  am  persuaded,  it  was  due  to  educa- 
tion and  environment.  Especially,  perhaps,  it  was  the  spirit 
of  Vinet,  the  teacher  of  his  youth.  With  Bossuet's  educa- 
tion and  Bossuet's  environment,  Bersier  would  naturally  have 
been  a  hierarch  not  less  lofty  and  majestic,  if  far  more 
sweet  and  sunny  and  genial,  than  Bossuet.  He  was  cast  in 
the  same  large  mold ;  the  port  and  speech  of  authority  were  as 
easily  and  instinctively  his.  I  acknowledge,  however,  that 
even  if  I  am  right  in  thus  divining  Bersier's  intimate  char- 
acter, still,  in  point  of  fact,  some  influence,  perhaps  that 
of  his  age  and  of  his  lot  in  his  age,  made  him  practically 
other  than  such  as  I  have  here  for  a  moment  ventured  ideally 
to  conceive  him. 

The  idea,  by  whomsoever  held,  of  historical  succession, 
of  formal  continuity,  in  ecclesiastical  development,  this  idea, 
with  its  correlate  idea  of  Church  authority  additional  to  the 
authority  of  Scripture  —  additional  and  coordinate  with 
that  —  is  a  pregnant  idea,  the  parent  of  momentous  doc- 
trinal consequences.  One  of  those  consequences  is  the  ob- 
literation  of   the   idea   of   definite   personal    individual   con- 


264  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

version,  as  a  thing  even  theoretically  necessary  in  order 
to  membership  in  the  visible  Church.  In  recoiling  from 
what  he  calls  "  individualism  "  in  religion,  the  ecclesiasticist, 
such  as  Bersier  became,  is  irresistibly  drawn  back  into  a 
conception  of  the  collective  Church  of  Christ,  that  can 
logically  be  satisfied  only  by  the  stupendous  concrete  em- 
bodiment found  in  the  Church  of  Rome.  Bersier,  by  a 
happy  inconsistency,  continued  indeed  to  be  himself  a  pas- 
sionate Protestant;  but  it  was  hardly  more  than  a  pushing 
of  the  father's  argument  to  its  legitimate  practical  conclu- 
sion, when  Bersier's  son,  to  that  father's  inconsolable  sor- 
row, publicly  abjured  his  Protestant  errors  and  took  refuge 
in  the  bosom  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  The  mature 
Bersier  —  this  seems  incredible,  but  it  is  true  —  formally 
renounced  his  earlier  opinion  that  the  visible  Church  of 
Christ  should  seek  to  consist  of  regenerate  persons  only; 
he  expressly  taught  that  it  should  be  opened  also  to  receive 
members  that  were  still  to  be  converted.  It  was  ecclesiasti- 
cism  overcoming  evangelicism  in  him.  The  natural  conse- 
quence followed,  that  his  preaching  aimed  less  than  other- 
wise it  would  certainly  have  done,  to  produce  the  immediate 
effect  of  conversion  in  individual  hearers.  He  became  pre- 
dominantly what  the  French  call  a  "  moralist "  in  his  preach- 
ing. Vitally  orthodox,  however,  as  orthodoxy  may  be  dis- 
tinguished from  a  narrower  and  stricter  evangelicism, 
Bersier  to  the  end  remained.  Except  so  far  as,  in  unavoid- 
able effect,  excessive  ecclesiasticism  in  him  prevented,  he 
was  a  loyal  confessor  and  defender  of  the  uncorrupt  original 
faith  of  the  Gospel.  The  reader  of  Bersier's  collected 
sermons  is  not  likely  to  be  reminded  at  all,  as  the  reader 
of  Liddon's  sermons  is  sure  often  to  be,  that  the  author 
was  a  thorough-going  ecclesiasticist  in  personal  conviction. 
Indeed,  Bersier's  reader  will  now  and  again  be  refreshed 
with  an  utterance  in  distinct  and  emphatic,  if  logically 
inconsistent,  repudiation  of  the  notion  that  human  authority, 
even  when  speaking  with  the  voice  of  the  "  Church,"  is 
entitled  to  tyrannize  over  the  individual  conscience.     Ber- 


EUGENE  BERSIER  265 

sier  did  not  like  "  individualism  "  in  religion ;  but  he  was 
a  Protestant,  and  "  individualism "  in  his  view  had  its 
rights,  at  least  against  the  assumptions  and  usurpations  of 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church. 

In  accordance  with  the  noble  frankness  of  his  character, 
Bersier  plainly  confessed  his  change  of  view,  a  change  as  I 
have  hinted,  to  me  most  regrettable  —  in  a  discourse 
preached,  and  published  separately  in  pamphlet,  by  him  in 
the  year  1877.  That  discourse  I  have  before  me  as  I  write 
these  words.  It  would  of  course  be  apart  from  the  proper 
object  of  the  present  paper  to  attempt  to  show  the  error  in 
argument  which  vitiates  its  teaching.  One  thing  is  very 
noticeable  in  it  —  namely,  that  the  preacher  refers  through- 
out more  to  Church  than  to  Scripture  for  his  authority. 
In  fact,  the  vital,  germinant  seed  of  all  Roman  Catholicism 
is  unconsciously  hidden  in  Bersier's  discourse  on  "  The 
Church." 

Let  us  come  now  to  the  task  of  illustrating  by  example 
the  quality  attributed  in  general  to  Bersier  as  preacher. 
I  take  up  for  this  purpose  the  sermon  in  his  sixth  volume 
entitled  "  The  Place  of  Man  in  the  Universe." 

But  immediately,  in  the  very  mention  of  this  sermon, 
with  its  title  as  thus  given,  there  arises  the  suggestion 
of  preparatory  remark  deserving  to  be  made.  The  subject 
of  the  sermon  now  to  be  examined  belongs  to  the  common- 
place of  pulpit  discussion.  The  statement  of  subject  in  the 
title  is  simple,  to  the  verge  of  commonplace  again.  Once 
more,  the  treatment  —  thought,  course  of  thought,  diction, 
style,  tone,  spirit  —  is  of  the  same  intellectual  order.  In 
accordance  with  the  character  already  described  as  every- 
where belonging  to  Bersier,  there  is  here  nothing  strained, 
ambitious,  nothing  seeking  to  be  individual,  idiosyncratic, 
original,  nothing  calculated  and  studied  to  be  striking,  bril- 
liant, surprising,  overwhelming.  All  is  in  the  self-control 
and  measure  of  good  taste,  of  high  and  serious,  of  self- 
effacing,  moral   and   spiritual   purpose. 


266  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

But,  let  it  be  marked,  the  commonplace  character  of 
which  I  speak  is  just  suMciently  that  —  not  a  shade  of 
either  more  or  less;  no  error,  no  excess,  by  either  too  much 
or  too  little.  In  a  word,  the  commonplace  of  Bersier  is, 
like  the  commonplace  of  Bossuet,  of  Robert  Hall,  of  Daniel 
Webster,  not  platitude.  It  is  commonplace  ennobled  by 
the  quality  of  sincerity  and  of  elevation  in  the  author  of  it. 
Bersier  has  what  may  be  emphatically  called  the  excellence 
of  distinction  —  that  excellence  which  is  the  common  in- 
variable attribute  of  the  classic  in  literature,  the  classic 
of  whatever  age,  of  whatever  country,  dealing  with  what- 
ever subject,  under  whatever  form,  in  whatever  tongue. 
As  I  have  already  said,  let  no  reader  expect  to  be  startled 
with  the  novel,  the  doubtful,  the  audacious,  in  Bersier. 
Such  effect  Bersier  is  so  far  from  seeking  that,  he  eschews 
it  rather.  What  you  may  count  on  in  him  is  thought  so 
well  considered  on  his  part,  that  it  will  repay  being  well 
considered  on  your  part;  thought,  that  will,  in  the  sequel  of 
reflection,  draw  after  it  no  reaction  in  you  of  disappoint- 
ment and  distaste  to  find  that  you  were  at  first  moved  by 
it  to  a  degree  beyond  its  true  value.  There  is  emotion, 
too,  as  well  as  thought,  in  Bersier;  but  the  emotion  has 
always  the  same  character  of  being  well  grounded.  It  fol- 
lows the  thought;  it  belongs  to  the  thought,  and  is  justified 
by  it.  Your  satisfaction  grows  deep  and  grows  full,  by  ex- 
perience on  your  part,  gradually  becoming  clearly  self- 
conscious,  of  never  being  trifled  with,  of  being  always 
treated  with  grave  respect,  and  of  therefore  being  solidly 
secure,  in  this  preacher's  hands. 

The  moral  and  spiritual  effect  of  such  preaching  of  the 
truth  is  inestimably  precious.  It  nourishes  in  the  hearer 
a  thoughtful,  serious,  earnest,  settled,  unmovable  temper 
and  habit  of  soul.  The  fixed,  inexpugnable  points  of  de- 
fense and  refuge  for  the  Gospel,  the  unmoving  centres  of 
resistance  and  reaction  and  recovery,  safely  fast,  when  all 
is  flux  and  eddy  besides,  will  be  found  in  just  such  souls, 
a  sifted  few,  a  "remnant"  small  in  quantity  but  in  quality 


EUGENE  BERSIER  267 

great — in  just  such  souls,  I  say,  as  spiritual  teaching  like 
Bersier's  tends  to  build  up.  This  kind  of  spiritual  teaching 
counts,  in  eventual  value  to  the  world,  many  times  more  than 
the  farther-shining,  farther-sounding  pulpit  oratory  of  men 
like  Beecher  —  w^ere  there  indeed  any  like  that  unique  son  of 
genius ! —  granted  even  such  pulpit  oratory  were  in  sub- 
stance and  spirit  according  to  the  truth  of  the  Gospel. 

Bersier's  text  for  the  sermon  now  in  question  is  that 
familiar  classic  place  of  the  eighth  psalm,  "  What  is  man, 
that  thou  art  mindful  of  him?  and  the  son  of  man,  that 
thou  visitest  him?"  A  fit  and  noble  text,  exactly  intro- 
ducing the  theme  of  the  sermon,  without  strain  of  ingenuity 
on  the  preacher's  part  to  effect  an  adjustment. 

The  sermon  commences  with  the  remark  that  one  of  the 
most  recurrent  objections  to  Christianity,  an  objection  com- 
mon to  ancient  and  modern  thought,  is  the  insignificance  of 
man  in  the  universe  and  the  consequent  improbability  of 
man's  being  the  subject  of  a  divine  providential  care  and 
of  a  divine  redemptive  grace  such  as  the  Bible  pretends 
to  exhibit  in  exercise  on  his  behalf. 

If  Bersier  had  been  preaching  in  America  to  Americans, 
it  would  have  been  appropriate  for  him  to  quote  at  this 
point  the  monumental  testimony  caused  by  Daniel  Webster 
to  be  carved  after  his  death  upon  his  tombstone  at  Marsh- 
field.  The  quotation  would  have  been  worthy,  both  for  the 
form  of  expression,  brief  and  simple,  so  characteristic  of  the 
author,  and  so  harmonious  with  the  style  of  the  French 
preacher  himself,  which  it  gives  to  the  argument  for  un- 
belief drawn  from  human  insignificance,  and  then  besides 
for  the  solemn  affirmation,  addressed  in  it  by  this  great  man 
to  posterity,  of  his  belief  in  the  Gospel  of  Christ  firmly 
maintained  in  the  face  of  that  argument  and  in  the  face 
of  all  argument  against  it: 

" '  Lord,  I  believe,  help  Thou  mine  unbelief.' 
"  Philosophical  argument,  especially  that  drawn  from  the  vast- 
ness  of  the  universe  in  comparison  with  the  insignificance  of  this 


268  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

globe,  has  sometimes  shaken  my  reason  for  the  faith  which  is  in 
me;  but  my  heart  has  always  assured  and  reassured  me,  that  the 
Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  must  be  a  Divine  Reality.  The  Sermon  on 
the  Mount  cannot  be  a  merely  human  production.  This  belief 
enters  into  the  very  depth  of  my  conscience.  The  whole  history 
of  man  proves  it. 

Daniel  Webster." 

Instead  of  quoting  this,  Bersier  quotes  a  lively  appropriate 
passage  from  the  ancient  heathen  Celsus,  vi^hich  states  the 
obvious  objection  strikingly.  A  remark  closely  following, 
illuminated  by  an  instance  from  astronomy,  composing  a 
fine  rhetorical  climax,  to  the  effect  that  late  science,  by 
its  discoveries  and  its  guesses,  has  given  keener  apparent 
point  to  the  objection,  with,  then,  an  illustration  or  two 
appealing  to  universal  human  experience  such  as  will  bring 
the  objection  home  to  every  hearer's  heart, —  and  the  subject 
of  discussion  is  effectively  introduced. 

The  climax  just  now  mentioned  closes  with  the  statement 
of  a  prodigious  conclusion,  reached  by  the  English  astron- 
omer Herschel,  as  to  the  distance  from  the  earth  of  one 
of  the  stars  in  the  Milky  Way: 

"  Before  these  formidable  figures  "  [exclaims  the  preacher]  "  we 
recoil  dismayed ;  we  say,  with  Pascal,  '  The  solitude  of  those 
infinite  spaces  terrifies  me ; '  our  infantile  confidence  gives  way, 
God  escapes  us,  and  the  saying  of  the  psalm  spontaneously  springs 
to  our  lips,  'What  is  man,  that  thou  art  mindful  of  him?  What 
is  the  Son  of  Man,  that  thou  visitest  him?  '  " 

That  citation  from  Pascal  is  characteristic  of  Bersier. 
He  has  a  natural  kindred  with  elevated  spirits  like  Pascal. 
His  second  illustration  —  that  drawn  from  universal  human 
experience  —  similarly  involves  an  allusion  to  Bossuet: 

"When  one  feels  as  if  lost  in  the  crowd,  when  (is  not  this  the 
experience  of  many  among  those  now  listening  to  me?)  one  walks 
there  solitary,  unknown,  seeking  in  vain  for  sympathy,  and  finding 
nothing  but  the  empty  exchange  of  superficial  sentiments,  when 


EUG'ENE  BERSIER  269 

one  suffers  without  hope,  when  one  has  prayed  without  winning 
reply,  when  one  has  come  on  purpose  to  kneel  in  the  church  and 
goes  out  more  skeptical  and  more  forlorn  than  he  entered,  when 
one  muses,  as  Bossuet  has  expressed  it,  that  he  has  appeared  here 
below  only  to  make  up  number,  and  that  the  piece  would  not  the 
less  have  been  played  if  he  had  remained  behind  the  scenes,  one 
repeats,  with  a  sombre  bitterness,  the  saying  of  the  text,  '  What 
is  mortal  man,  that  thou  art  mindful  of  him,  and  the  son  of  man, 
that  thou  visitest  him?  '  " 

Thus,  as  has  already  been  hinted,  the  introduction  ends. 
The  link  of  transition  from  introduction  to  discourse  is 
simply  this: 

"  It  is  to  this  cry  of  your  troubled  hearts  that  I  would  respond, 
and  my  response  —  need  I  say  it?  —  I  wish  to  seek  here  in  the 
Book  of  Life,  in  the  eternal  Word  of  the  true  and  living  God." 

It  is  one  of  the  recognized  traditions  of  French  pulpit 
oratory,  followed,  as  has  been  pointed  out,  by  the  English 
Liddon,  that  the  discourse  be  divided  into  parts  such  that  the 
typographical  device  of  numbering  them  with  Roman  numer- 
als across  the  page  will  be  appropriate.  Here  commences 
Bersier's 

«  T  y> 

The  first  part  consists  of  the  statement,  confirmed  and 
illustrated  by  citation  of  texts,  that  although  the  Bible 
itself  contains  the  most  impressive  affirmations  conceivable 
of  man's  nothingness  in  the  presence  of  the  vastness  of  the 
universe,  the  same  Bible  reveals  a  God  greater  than  the 
universe,  who  yet  has  the  concern  of  a  Father  in  men  as 
His    children. 

Bersier's  second  part  consists  of  an  antithetic  comple- 
mental  exhibition  from  Scripture  of  the  greatness  of  man 
in  paradoxical  combination  with  his  littleness.  In  the  course 
of  this  he  makes  a  fine,  effective  return  upon  those  men  of 
science  who,  in  one  breath,  belittle  human  nature  to  make 


270 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


it  seem  absurd  that  human  nature  should  be  the  object 
of  a  Divine  revelation,  and,  in  the  next  breath,  represent 
human  nature  as  sufficient  to  itself  without  a  Divine  revela- 
tion, nay,  even  without  a  God  by  whom  such  a  revelation 
might  be  given.  It  is  the  glory,  he  says,  of  Christianity  to 
meet  at  once  both  the  one  and  the  other  of  these  two 
contradictory  attacks.  He  recalls  the  word  of  Pascal :  "  If 
man  exalts  himself,  I  abase  him.  If  he  abases  himself,  I 
exalt  him."  After  a  splendid  passage  of  ascription  to  the 
powers  of  the  human  mind,  Bersier  exclaims  finely: 

"What  matters  it  then  to  me  that  man  is  but  an  insignificant 
atom  in  the  material  universe?  Does  the  genius  of  Napoleon  or 
of  Galileo  require  the  body  of  a  giant?  Nay,  does  not  the  very 
suggestion  bring  a  smile  to  your  lips?  If  our  planet  is  a  world 
in  which  the  plans  of  God  are  understood,  will  you  complain  that 
its  mass  is  but  the  hundredth  or  the  thousandth  part  of  some  of 
those  stars  with  which  the  firmament  is  sown?  Will  you  have  it 
that  those  physical  limits  prevent  its  being  the  marvelous  observ- 
atory whence  the  universe  may  be  faithfully  studied?  Let  us 
dismiss,  then,  that  strange  argument  which  consists  in  measuring 
the  value  of  man  by  the  place  that  he  occupies  in  space  and  in 
time.  For  myself,  that  value  seems  to  me  by  so  much  the  greater, 
it  takes  hold  of  me  by  so  much  the  more,  as  it  displays  itself 
on  a  narrower  stage,  and  never  without  a  thrill  of  enthusiasm 
do  I  exclaim  afresh  with  Pascal :  '  Man  is  only  a  reed,  the  weak- 
est in  nature ;  but  it  is  a  reed  that  thinks !  There  is  no  need  that 
the  whole  universe  arm  itself  in  order  to  crush  him.  A  breath  of 
vapor,  a  drop  of  water  suffices  to  kill  him.  But  though  the  uni- 
verse should  crush  him,  man  would  still  be  more  noble  than  that 
which  kills  him,  because  he  knows  that  he  is  dying;  and  of  the 
advantage  which  the  universe  has  over  him,  the  universe  knows 
nothing.  All  our  dignity  consists,  then,  in  thought.  It  is  from 
this  that  we  should  draw  our  exaltation,  not  from  space  and  from 
duration  which  we  should  not  be  able  to  fill.'  Admirable  words, 
which,  under  a  form  of  expression  precise  and  severe,  resemble 
the  fragments  of  an  orphic  hymn  chanting  the  true  greatness  of 
humanity." 

Bersier's  Third  Part  proceeds  to  admit  that  the  foregoing 


EUGENE  BERSIER  271 

demonstration  of  the  true  greatness  of  man  is  adapted  to 
produce  its  effect  only  upon  the  elect  few,  while  the  com- 
mon many  need  something  more  simple,  more  easily  under- 
stood. This  something  he  finds  in  those  moral  attributes 
which,  distinguished  herein  from  the  purely  intellectual,  all 
men  possess  in  common.  With  admirable  oratoric  instinct 
for  oratoric  effect,  he  describes  a  poor  degraded  human 
being,  the  pariah  of  the  streets,  and  says: 

"  Behold  him  lost  in  the  human  ant-hill ;  you  will  be  tempted 
to  smile  at  the  idea  of  his  possessing  an  immortal  soul,  and  of  his 
occupying  any  place  whatever  in  the  plans  of  God.  But  suddenly 
the  scene  changes!  You  are  in  the  court  of  justice;  here  before 
you  is  a  judgment-bar,  and  that  despicable  creature  of  a  moment 
ago  is  brought  to  the  criminal  bench  under  charge  of  being  a 
murderer.  Whence  comes  it  that  all  is  then  transformed  in  your 
impressions?  Why  does  society  come  to  a  halt  in  its  march  in 
order  to  attend  the  trial  of  this  wretch?  Why  these  magistrates, 
this  assemblage  of  public  officials,  these  long  legal  arguments, 
these  learned  researches?  Why  the  intense  emotion  of  this  audi- 
tory, hanging  on  the  speech  of  an  advocate  who  seeks  to  defend 
this  life?  Why  this  silence  as  of  death,  at  the  moment  when  the 
sentence  is  about  to  be  pronounced  ?  Ah !  I  assure  you  at 
that  moment  you  are  no  longer  tempted  to  smile,  and  levity  now 
would  excite  only  indignation  and  disgust.  The  explanation  is 
that  man  is  great,  that  his  liberty  is  not  an  empty  sophism,  that 
there  is  in  his  destiny  something  that  marks  it  august.  This  is 
the  more  manifest  in  proportion  as  society  advances,  as  it  is  edu- 
cated and  civilized.  The  savages  of  Dahomey  may,  in  a  day  of 
reckless  revelry,  make  a  pond  with  human  blood  and  build  a 
pyramid  of  human  skulls,  but  under  the  light  of  Christian  civiliza- 
tion the  lowest  of  malefactors  may  not  be  touched  save  by  the 
sacred  arm  of  law.  There,  my  brethren,  is  something  which  the 
Gospel  has  made  so  clear  that  no  one  will  attempt  even  to  dis- 
pute it.  Man  is  accountable,  man  is  not  a  brute  whose  nerves  or 
whose  blood  push  him  on  by  fate  to  murder;  man  has  it  in  his 
power  to  say  No  to  God  Himself;  man  has  it  in  his  power  to 
secure  his  own  destruction  or  his  own  salvation." 

Part  Fourth  advances  to  affirm  that  the  moral  greatness 


272  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

of  human  nature  has  been  still  more  strikingly  displayed 
in  the  charatcer  of  the  Ideal  Man,  Christ  Jesus.  Even  if, 
Bersier  says,  man  had  himself  invented  that  illustrious  figure, 
the  figure  so  invented  would  still  remain  the  supreme  tri- 
umph of  human  nature.  But  there  is  something  here,  he 
declares,  better  than  an  invention: 

"  The  colossal  attempt  to  which  Strauss  brought  a  skill  of 
science  as  ingenious  as  it  was  profound,  that  attempt  of  his  to 
resolve  the  Gospel  into  a  myth,  into  a  sublime  dream  of  the 
human  consciousness,  is  to-day  definitively  abandoned.  There  is 
not  a  single  man  of  science  who  does  not  admit  that  Christ  lived. 
.  .  .  Now,  when  you  study  that  life,  does  it  ever  occur  to  you 
to  think  for  one  moment  of  the  littleness  of  the  theater  upon 
which  it  was  lived?  Do  you  not  feel  that  the  greatness  of  Jesus 
Christ  is  of  a  different  order,  compelling  us  to  elevate  ourselves 
to  far  different  thoughts?  .  .  ,  What  matters  it  to  you  that 
all  this  occurred  in  an  obscure  corner  of  Galilee  and  upon  a  little 
planet  lost  in  the  vastness  of  the  universe?  .  .  .  Enlarge  the 
theater  of  these  scenes,  give  to  them  gigantic  proportions,  you 
will  have  added  to  them  absolutely  nothing." 

Having  pointed  out  that  the  dignity  of  the  person  of 
Jesus  Christ  imparted  itself  to  all  that  was  associated  with 
him,  Bersier,  with  fine,  because  just  and  lofty,  pathos, 
exclaims : 

"  No  doubt  unbelief  may  be  able  to  obliterate  for  a  few  days 
those  sublime  teachings,  and  our  common  people,  blinded  by 
sophists,  may  forget  that  prodigious  revolution  which  trans- 
formed the  ideas  up  to  that  day  dominant  in  the  world ;  but  the 
mistake  soon  disappears,  and  the  consciousness  of  the  little  ones 
of  the  earth  understands  that  the  Book  which  has  set  forth,  as 
furnishing  example  to  mankind,  a  few  fishermen  thenceforth  more 
popular  than  your  Caesars  and  your  Alexanders,  is  the  best 
charter  of  the  rights  of  humanity." 

Bersier's  Fifth  Part  discovers  in  the  doctrine  of  redemp- 
tion the  crowning  demonstration  of  the  worth  of  human 
nature.     He  says: 


EUGkNE  BERSIER  273 

"The  tragic  solemnity  of  our  destiny,  the  gloomy  power  of 
evil,  and  the  infinite  greatness  of  the  Divine  love,  invest  them- 
selves, in  the  light  of  the  cross,  with  a  splendor  of  revelation 
which  it  is  no  longer  possible  to  extinguish.  .  .  .  They  tell 
us  it  is  absurd  to  pretend  that  redemption  was  achieved  by  the 
Son  of  God  on  a  planet  so  insignificant  as  our  globe.  Would  it 
then  be  easier  to  accept  it,  if  it  had  had  for  theater  some  mighty 
star  —  say  one  of  those  prodigious  suns  about  which  gravitate 
thousands  of  worlds?  For  myself  I  here  recall  the  exclamation 
of  the  prophet  saluting  the  obscure  hamlet  which  was  to  become 
the  cradle  of  the  Redeemer :  '  O  Bethlehem,  though  thou  be  the 
least  among  the  thousands  of  Judah,  it  is  from  thee  that  shall 
come  forth  He  who  is  to  rule  over  Israel ! '  and,  looking  at  our 
earth,  that  other  cradle  of  Christ,  I,  in  my  turn,  exclaim :  '  O 
earth,  planet  lost  in  the  vastness  of  the  universe,  thou  art  nothing 
in  space  but  an  atom  of  dust,  but  it  is  thou  that  hast  seen  love 
beam  out  in  its  highest  splendor,  and  a  gaze  which  should  explore 
the  infinite  depths  of  the  worlds  would  not  be  able  therein  to  dis- 
cover anything  greater,  anything  more  magnificent,  than  the  sacri- 
fice of  the  cross.'  .  ,  .  There  is  something  which  every 
Christian  can  understand,  even  the  most  ignorant,  the  most  insig- 
nificant, the  most  obscure.  .  .  .  God  has  remembered  him, 
God  has  redeemed  him,  God  wills  to  make  him  sharer  of  an 
eternal  glory ;  that  is  enough  to  make  him  forever  triumph  over 
the  besetment  of  the  skepticism  which  assumes  to  crush  him  by 
telling  him  that  he  is  nothing." 

Bersier's  Sixth  Part,  I  give  entire: 

"  My  closing  word  shall  be  addressed  to  those  who  ridicule  our 
simple  faith  in  what  they  call  our  proud  pretensions.  What  is 
man,  with  a  smile  they  say,  that  God  should  remember  him? 
Well,  I  shall  frankly  avow  it,  I  discredit  this  simulated  humility. 
It  is  an  humility  too  great  not  to  be  open  to  suspicion.  Look  at 
them,  those  very  men  who  are  irritated  at  what,  on  our  part, 
seems  to  them  a  childish  illusion  or  else  an  insufferable  presump- 
tion. No  expression  appears  to  them  too  strong  when  tlie  object 
is  to  overwhelm  us.  But  mark  how  well  they  will  understand 
the  art  of  taking  their  revenge,  and  what  a  surprise  they  have  in 
reserve  for  us !  You  shall  see  them  applaud  without  hesitation 
theories  that  banish  God  from  the  world,  and  make  man  the  sole 
K 


274  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

sovereign  of  nature.  A  moment  ago,  in  their  view,  man  was 
nothing,  now  he  becomes  well-nigh  all.  It  is  to  God  that  they 
would  apply  the  words  of  my  text.  It  is  of  Him  that  they  would 
say,  'What  is  God,  that  man  should  be  mindful  of  him?'  God, 
in  their  view,  is  only  a  name,  traditional  and  obsolete,  expressing 
force  or  first  cause.  He.  is  merely  a  zero ;  and  man,  whom  they 
were  blaming  us  for  exalting,  becomes  the  sole  master  of  his 
own  destiny,  the  sole  judge  of  his  own  deserts,  the  sole  being 
whose  action  is  to  be  taken  account  of  in  history.  He  does  not 
deserve  to  have  God  concern  Himself  with  him ;  and  it  is  an 
insufferable  presumption  on  his  part  to  believe  that  He  does ;  but 
he  is  able  to  dethrone  God  and  to  affirm  with  confidence  that  no 
superior  will  has  rights  over  him.  Thus  they  will  have  nothing 
of  Christianity,  which  unhesitatingly  affirms  our  greatness,  and 
they  make  of  man  a  miserable  God,  whom  they  exalt  by  making 
him  drunk  with  pride.  If  our  faith  had  need  of  being  avenged, 
it  is  in  such  contradictions  that  its  revenge  might  be  tasted.  But 
other  sentiments  animate  our  hearts.  We  think,  with  a  bitter 
sadness,  of  that  perpetual  effort  with  which  man  seeks,  in  every 
age,  to  escape  God ;  opposing  to  His  light  all  possible  sophisms 
and  to  His  love  all  possible  evasions ;  to-day  makijig  himself  too 
little  to  deserve  attention  from  Him,  and  to-morrow  finding  him- 
self too  great  to  have  need  of  His  grace ;  by  turns  abasing  himself 
to  the  point  of  contempt,  and  raising  himself  to  the  point  of  idol- 
atry; arming  himself  with  his  own  nothingness,  or  with  his  own 
pride,  and  finding  any  ground  good  for  forgetting  the  Almighty 
upon  whom  he  depends,  the  most  holy  Judge  whom  he  has 
offended,  the  Father  from  whom  he  has  wilfully  separated  him- 
self, the  Being,  in  fine,  whose  love  annoys  him,  because  He 
claims  in  return  his  adoration  and  his  unstinted  consecration. 
Ah !  let  us  bless  God  that  He  has  revealed  to  us  our  true  destiny ! 
It  will  be  with  the  accent  of  repentance  —  while  we  recall  not 
only  our  littleness  but  our  wretchedness,  not  only  our  nothingness 
but  our  unworthiness  —  that  we  shall  repeat  the  words  of  the 
Psalmist,  '  What  is  man,  that  thou  art  miridful  of  him  ? '  and  our 
hearts  will  salute  with  ardent  gratitude  that  compassionate  love 
which,  in  our  abasement  and  our  wretchedness  without  limit, 
causes  its  splendor  without  limit  to  shine  forth." 

I  have  been  thus  full  in  presenting  one  select  sermon  of 


EUGENE  BERSIER  275 

Bersier's  as  a  whole,  because  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  could 
best  in  this  way  reveal  the  secret  of  his  method  and  his 
merit.  The  sermon  chosen  for  example  was  not  chosen  as 
either  superior  or  inferior  to  the  average  production  of 
this  noble  preacher's  genius  exhibiting  itself  in  print. 

I  may  remark  that  the  discourse  here  passed  under  review 
is  not,  if  I  remember  right,  included  in  any  volume  of 
English  translation  from  Bersier's  works.  I  could  have  of- 
fered sermons  of  his  whose  matter  would  have  been  more 
interesting;  but  I  could  have  offered  none  more  truly  rep- 
resentative of  his  habitual  quakty.  Fundamentally  such  as 
he  has  thus  been  shown,  Bersier  will  be  found  to  be  in 
every  sermon  that  he  has  printed.  Nowhere,  it  may  safely 
be  said,  will  he  appear  less  fresh  in  matter  of  thought,  less 
striking  in  form  of  expression.  I  have  dared  present  him 
exemplified  in  a  style  of  sermon  that  would,  in  the  case 
of  any  preacher,  fatally  reveal  his  essentially  and  unredeem- 
edly  commonplace  quality,  if  the  preacher  were  in  truth  an 
essentially  commonplace  man.  If  Bersier  has  stood  the  test, 
then  he  has  stood  the  crucial  test;  and  I  think  it  will  be 
agreed  that  he  has  not  been  found  wanting.  I  put  on  record 
here  the  testimony  of  my  own  experience  in  reading  his 
sermons.  Every  additional  sermon  read  confirms  and  even 
heightens  my  impression  of  his  value.  As  I  have  already 
before  said,  I  now  repeat  with  emphasis,  to  many  a  wise 
minister  not  at  present  familiar  with  French,  it  would  be 
worth  while  to  master  the  language,  if  only  for  the  sake  of 
reading  Bersier's  sermons  in  their  original  text.  Without 
this  arduous  condition,  however,  some  fairly  effective  knowl- 
edge is  accessible,  to  such  a  man,  of  Bersier's  work;  for  sev- 
eral volumes  exist  of  sermons  of  his  translated  into  English. 
Of  these,  one  volume  was  published  in  New  York  by  A.  D.  F. 
Randolph.  The  translator  in  this  instance  did  his  work 
well.  Besides  the  New  York  volume,  there  are  three  vol- 
umes published  in  London,  prepared  with  equal  knowledge 
on  the  translator's  part  of  the  French  language,  but  with 
perhaps  less  felicity  in  the  command  of  English  expression. 


2y()         MASTERS  OF.  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

What  is  needed,  and  what  I  should  Hke  to  see  demanded 
by  the  English-reading  public,  is  a  competent  English  trans- 
lation of  all  Bersier's  sermons. 

For  the  information  of  such  readers  as  may  be  inclined  to 
gratify  themselves  experimentally  so  far  and  no  farther,  I 
may  mention  that  a  very  handsomely  printed  single  volume 
of  select  sermons  from  Bersier  has  lately  been  issued  in 
Paris,  to  serve  in  the  way  of  appropriate  memorial  of  the 
author,  which  is  sold  at  the  nominal  price  of  one  franc 
(twenty  cents).  This  is  the  result  of  a  generous  subscrip- 
tion for  the  purpose  made  by  Bersier's  friends  and  admirers. 
The  edition  is  limited;  but,  until  it  is  exhausted,  the  volume 
may  be  ordered  through  any  American  bookseller,  or  directly 
from  G.  Fischbacher,  33  Rue  de  Seine,  Paris,  who  pub- 
lishes all  Bersier's  works. 

I  cannot,  after  all,  dismiss  the  subject  of  this  paper  and 
feel  that  I  have  done  him  justice  with  the  reader,  without 
adding  a  brief  appendix  of  citations  to  exemplify  the  sal- 
iences and  brilliancies  of  thought  and  of  expression  which 
at  intervals  attract  and  stimulate  the  reader  everywhere 
throughout  the  course  of  Bersier's  sermons. 

In  a  sermon  on  "  Caesar  and  God,"  with  what  delightful, 
good-natured  reduction  to  palpable  absurdity  is  treated,  in 
the  following  sentence,  a  mistake  of  some  Christians : 

"  It  were  strange,  if,  because  we  expect  one  day  the  perfect 
bursting  into  flower  of  truth  and  of  justice,  we  should  content 
ourselves  to  remain  indifferent  to  their  triumph  here  and  now." 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  same  sermon,  how  absolutely  fit 
and  felicitous  this  turn : 

"  Christ  said  to  the  Jews,  '  Show  me  a  denary,  and  I  will  point 
out  to  you  thereon  the  image  of  Caesar.'  We  may  equally  say, 
'  Show  me  a  human  heart,  we  will  point  out  to  you  thereon  the 
image  of  God.'     .     .     .     Render  to  God  that  which  is  God's." 

What  pitilessly  penetrative  insight  into  the  truth  of  self 
and  of  human  nature,  is  here : 


EUGENE  BERSIER 


277 


"  Listen  to  a  conversation  in  society  where  wit  gives  itself  free 
play,  and  where  the  wish  to  shine  prevails  over  those  hypocritic 
complaisances  sometimes  mistaken  for  esteem  of  others ;  mark, 
if  you  have  the  skill  to  do  it,  all  the  little  treacheries,  all  the 
petty  perfidies,  all  the  steel-cold  criticisms  which  there  abound, 
and  then  come  and  tell  us  that  La  Rochefoucauld  calumniated 
human  nature !  " 

Here  is  a  fine  and  just  appreciation  of  a  trait  in  the  bear- 
ing of  Jesus  toward  His  disciples  that  often  escapes  its 
merited  attention: 

"  Consider,  from  this  point  of  view,  the  manner  in  which  Jesus 
Christ  trains  and  prepares  His  disciples.  I  have  just  been  recall- 
ing to  what  moral  height  He  summons  them ;  I  have  now  to  re- 
mark with  what  admirable  patience  He  conducts  them  thither. 
It  is  impossible  to  think  of  it  without  a  stir  of  profound  emotion ; 
never  was  human  nature  treated  with  such  respect.  .  .  .  You 
find  delicacies  the  most  exquisite,  words  that  warn  without  wound- 
ing, that  enlighten  without  dazzling,  that  humble,  then  revive, 
without  even  once  despising.     Such  a  patience  is  sublime." 

The  French  preachers  generally  —  and  Bersier  is  one 
with  his  compatriots  here  —  deal  very  sparingly  in  elabor- 
ate illustration.  Their  similes  and  comparisons  are  few; 
and  the  few  are  brief  and  simple.  The  Attic  character  of 
their  eloquence  is  herein  conspicuous.  They  content  them- 
selves with  thought,  clear  enough,  in  clear  enough  expres- 
sion, to  make  illustration  seem  a  thing  superfluous,  if  not 
even  almost  impertinent.  The  following  passage  from  Ber- 
sier is  an  example  of  what  he  does  on  those  rare  occasions 
when  he  frankly  illustrates: 

"  Never,  perhaps,  has  the  cause  of  the  Gospel  been  less  popular 
with  those  little  ones  and  feeble  ones  of  the  world,  to  whom  the 
Gospel  opened  room  so  wide,  and  out  from  among  whom  it  chose 
a  certain  few  to  make  of  them  the  spiritual  masters  of  mankind. 
This  revolting  injustice  does  not  dishearten  us.  We  shall  not 
cease  to  repeat  that  the  individual  has  a  sacred  value,  that  every 
system  is  sophistic  which  sacrifices  the  individual ;  we  shall  not 


278  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

cease  to  point  out  that,  when  the  love  of  God  burst  in  splendor 
on  the  world,  it  commenced  by  bestowing  itself  on  plebeians,  till 
then  utterly  forgotten  and  despised,  on  beings  each  one  of  whom 
was  called,  chosen,  guarded,  by  Christ.  It  is  by  this  token  that 
men  recognized  the  fact  that  God  was  visiting  humanity.  When 
the  sun  ascending  enkindles  the  horizon  and  thrills  the  slumber- 
ing planet  with  his  beams,  the  proud  summits  of  the  Alps  salute 
him  by  blazing  again  under  his  rays  of  fire ;  but  at  their  feet  the 
tiniest  floweret  opens  her  petals  to  receive,  she  also,  his  warmth 
and  his  light.  It  is  thus  that  God,  the  sun  of  souls,  while  illumin- 
ing the  world,  humbles  Himself  toward  each  one  of  his  creatures, 
and  on  each  sheds  His  light  and  His  love." 

I  ought  to  remark  that  the  example,  given  in  full  abstract, 
of  Bersier's  sermons  is  not  to  be  taken  as  indicating  an 
invariable  method  on  his  part  of  plan  and  analysis.  There 
will  be  found  a  considerable  number  of  other  instances  in 
which  too  the  divisions  are  sextuple  or  septuple,  as  they  are  in 
that.  But  more  often  perhaps,  the  divisions  will  be  found 
fewer,  being  not  infrequently  triple  or  even  double  only. 
In  fact,  Bersier's  method  in  plan,  is  flexible  and  various. 
He  tends,  however,  always  to  be  topical  rather  than  textual, 
his  sermons  accordingly  possessing  little  of  that  strictly 
exegetical  value  which  is  so  remarkable  a  characteristic  in 
Dr.  McLaren. 

That  I  seem  not,  to  some  reader  of  mine,  excessive  or 
perhaps  even  quite  solitary,  in  my  high  estimate  of  a 
preacher  thus  far  too  little  known  among  us  Americans,  I 
may  say  that  Canon  Liddon  quotes  Bersier,  or  refers  to  him 
as  source  or  confirmation  of  view,  in  his  celebrated  Bamp- 
ton  Lectures;  that  the  late  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  so  I 
heard  in  Paris  on  excellent  authority,  made  it  a  point,  in 
visits  to  that  capital,  to  hear  Bersier  preach ;  that  M.  S. 
de  Sacy,  in  the  "  Journal  des  Debats,"  put  his  reputation  in 
stake  by  using  with  respect  to  Bersier  the  following  lan- 
guage: "As  moralist,  M.  Bersier  is  equal,  I  do  not  fear  to 
say  it,  to  the  most  illustrious  names  of  our  ancient  Catholic 
pulpit." 


'EUGENE  BERSIER  279 

One  more  topic,  with  one  illustrative  citation  further, 
seems  necessary  in  order  to  round  out  this  presentation  of 
Bersier's  oratoric  talent  to  anything  like  even  an  approx- 
imate completeness.  I  have  as  yet  given  no  idea  of  the 
passionate  fervor  in  popular  appeal  of  which,  upon  occasion, 
the  eloquence  of  the  great  preacher  was  capable.  During 
the  menace  of  the  communistic  afterpiece  to  the  great 
tragedy  for  France  of  the  Franco-Prussian  war,  Bersier's 
voice  was  potent  for  a  policy  of  moderation  and  wisdom. 
To  audiences  of  the  common  people,  he  addressed  himself* 
in  patriotic  exhortation  and  remonstrance,  of  which  the 
following  passage  may  be  taken  as  example.  The  allusion 
in  it  to  our  own  country  will  make  the  quotation  interesting. 
(With  subsequent  years,  and  with  the  author's  transition  to 
his  later  ecclesiastical  views,  Bersier's  admiration  and  love 
of  things  American  became  less  lively.)  The  speaker 
begins,  in  our  quotation,  with  a  reference  to  the  terrific 
watchwords  of  the  French  Revolution,  of  the  enormities  of 
which  he  justly  feared  that  a  repetition  was  preparing: 

"  Let  us  have  done  with  traditional  lies ;  let  us  cease  speaking 
of  '  salutary  rigors '  and  of  the  '  public  safety ' ;  let  us  beware 
how  we  thus  furnish  weapons  to  the  apologists  of  Philip  II.  and 
of  the  Inquisition.  It  is  not  in  suspicion,  in  violence,  and  in 
blood,  that  liberty  and  justice  can  be  founded.  To  all  these  de- 
ceitful legends,  let  me,  gentlemen,  oppose  history.  Eight  years 
ago  the  greatest  republic  of  modern  times  seemed  on  the  point 
of  foundering  in  a  frightful  tempest.  A  formidable  insurrection 
had  almost  annihilated  her.  Ah !  if  ever  man,  if  ever  chief  of 
State,  had  been  justified  in  invoking  reasons  of  'public  safety' 
in  order  to  suspend  the  law,  in  order  to  make  appeal  to  terror, 
it  surely  was  Abraham  Lincoln ;  for,  on  coming  into  power,  he 
confronted  treason  everywhere.  The  President  whom  he  suc- 
ceeded had  surrendered  to  the  slaveholders  of  the  South  the 
arsenals  of  the  republic,  the  skeletons  of  the  army,  its  fleets,  and 
almost  all  its  resources.  The  majority  of  the  agents  of  the  exec- 
utive power  were  obnoxious  to  suspicion.  Anarchy,  discord 
reigned  everywhere.  Each  morning  hundreds  of  daily  journals 
launched    at   the   new    administration   outrage    and   insult;   they 


28o.  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

threw  ridicule  on  its  plans,  taxed  it  with  feebleness  and  imbecility, 
and  spread  everywhere  a  feeling  of  distrust  by  exalting  the  talents 
and  resources  of  the  insurrection. 

"What,  meantime,  were  foreign  nations  doing?  Imperial 
France,  renouncing  the  glorious  memories  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, was  holding  out  secretly  her  hand  to  the  slaveholders  of 
the  South,  and,  by  creating  the  Mexican  Empire,  was  conspiring 
with  them  to  overthrow  that  American  Republic  whose  pure 
splendor  was  eclipsing  her.  England  remained  an  impassive  and 
cynical  spectator  of  what  she  believed  to  be  the  subversion  of  the 
'American  Union,  as  she  remains  to-day  an  impassive  and  cynical 
spectator  of  what  she  believes  to  be  —  but  of  what  is  not  to  be  — 
the  death  of  France  [cheers  and  applause].  Never  was  country 
more  menaced  than  America  then,  never  was  government  the 
object  of  such  attacks.  And  meantime  Lincoln  permitted  the 
tempest  to  let  itself  loose  against  him.  To  objurgations,  to  prov- 
ocations, to  menaces,  to  insults,  he  responded  by  calm  and  by 
serenity,  showing  thus  that  true  force  does  not  consist  in  violence, 
which  is  always  easy,  but  in  self-possessio;i,  which  is  the  highest 
victory;  and  when  triumph  came  to  crown  his  admirable  perse- 
verance, he  could  bear  witness  that  he  had  never  suspended  a 
single  right,  had  never  committed  an  act  of  usurpation  or  of 
vengeance,  had  never  veiled,  one  day,  one  hour,  the  figure  of 
Liberty.  Do  you  know  what  is  the  result?  It  is  that  to-day  the 
great  American  republic  is  there  before  us,  on  the  other  side  of 
the  ocean,  like  a  pharos,  a  beacon-light,  whose  resplendent  beams 
illumine  the  night  of  gloom  through  which  we  are  passing.  Do 
you  not  hear?  She  cries  to  France,  'Rise  thou,  young  republic  of 
France !  Rise  thou  from  thy  cradle  full  of  blood  and  of  tears ! 
Rise  thou,  to  become  great,  no  longer  by  terror,  but  by  justice 
and  reverence  for  humanity!  And  then,  standing  erect,  like  two 
immortal  sisters,  thou  in  the  Old  World,  I  in  the  New,  we  shall 
see  pass  before  us  and  engulf  themselves  in  the  contempt  of  his- 
tory all  despotisms  of  a  day,  all  dominations  that  have  no  other 
basis  than  the  force  of  bayonets  and  the  divine  right  of  kings.' " 
[Prolonged  applause.] 

I  indicate  the  punctuations  of  responsive  applause  that 
enlivened  this  address.  These  seemed  a  necessary  part  not 
only  of  the  occasion,  but  of  the  oratory.     One  can  imagine 


EUGENE  BERSIER  281 

how  a  large  amount  of  practice  in  such  popular  harangue, 
with  its  opportunity  of  audible  reaction  from  hearers,  might 
quite  have  transformed  the  stately  eloquence  of  Bersier. 
As  was  the  case  with  our  own  American  Dr.  Storrs,  Bersier 
never  fully  showed  all  that  he  was  capable  of  doing,  in  the 
way  of  distinctively  popular  oratory. 

I  linger,  with  a  somewhat  pathetic  sense  of  purpose  in- 
adequately fulfilled,  in  concluding  this  paper.  I  can  make 
no  reader  of  mine  understand  with  me,  how  the  gracious 
presence  of  the  subject  himself,  as  I  last  saw  him,  now 
almost  exactly  three  years  ago,  stands  yet  vivid  benignantly 
before  me,  refusing  to  hear  farewell  1 


X 

CHARLES  GRANDISON  FINNEY 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

Mr.  Finney  died  in  1875,  at  eighty-three  years  of  age. 
The  following  paper,  as  its  tenor  shows,  was  written  and 
published  in  close  sequel  to  his  death. 

Mr.  Finney's  personality  was  a  very  powerful  one  —  so 
powerful  that  the  considerate  practical  psychologist  might 
easily  raise  with  himself  the  question  to  what  extent  the 
mere  momentum  and  impact  of  his  will  contributed  to  the 
truly  remarkable  effects  of  his  eloquence.  He  was  tall,  he 
had  piercing  eyes  (of  gray,  as  I  seem  doubtfully  to  remem- 
ber) over  which  beetled  heavy  eyebrows,  his  voice  was  solid 
sound,  with  edges,  if  one  may  so  express  it,  clear-cut,  and, 
when  he  spoke,  he  spoke  like  a  born  master  of  assemblies, 
and  few  indeed  could  have  been  the  occasions  on  which  an 
audience  would  not  give  way  before  his  dominating  power. 

The  oratoric  imaginative  vision  with  which  he  could  de- 
scribe, was  extraordinary.  A  gentleman  told  me  once  of 
hearing  Mr.  Finney  compare  the  danger  in  which  the  un- 
repentant sinner  unconsciously  lives,  to  the  case  of  a  man 
in  a  boat  caught,  without  his  knowing  it,  in  the  rapids  above 
Niagara  Falls,  and  incessantly  moving  nearer  and  nearer 
to  the  brink  of  the  precipice  over  which  the  water  takes  its 
frightful  plunge.  The  realism,  the  histrionic  rendering,  of 
the  description,  was  such  that  the  audience  involuntarily 
held  their  breath  in  sympathetic  suspense  and  dread,  while 
the  pictured  approach  to  the  fatal  point  was  made,  until  at 
the  climax,  one  man  in  the  audience  cried  out  audibly,  "  My 
God,  he's  gone !  "  That  was  great  oratory,  if  it  should  not 
rather  be  called   great  acting;  but  I  do  not  recommend  it  as 

28s 


-f- 


286  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

an  example  of  great  preaching.  It  was  an  exceptional  case, 
in  which  Mr.  Finney  allowed  the  impression,  on  his  hearers, 
of  his  illustration,  to  get  the  better  of  the  impression  that 
ostensibly  he  was  seeking  to  make  for  the  truth  to  be  illus- 
trated. I  have  given  the  incident  to  show  the  power  which 
this  great  preacher  could  at  will  exert  to  make  his  hearers 
see,  with  himself,  things  not  visible.  The  more  legitimate 
use  that  Mr.  Finney  could  make,  and  that  he  did  most  effect- 
ively and  most  fruitfully  make,  of  this  rare  gift  of  his, 
is  adverted  to  in  the  course  of  the  following  paper. 

Mr.  Finney  could  not  justly  be  called  eccentric,  but  he 
certainly  was  in  a  high  degree  idiosyncratic  and  unconven- 
tional. Of  one  exhibition  of  this  quality  in  him  I  was 
myself  once  made  quite  startlingly  the  subject.  It  was  in 
Glasgow,  a  few  years  after  that  signal  winter  of  religious 
revival  in  the  city  of  Rochester,  spoken  of  in  pages  to  follow. 
I  was  present  on  a  Sunday  morning  in  a  church  ("chapel," 
must  I  call  it?)  in  which  the  city  papers  had  announced  that 
Mr.  Finney  would  preach,  or  perhaps  rather  give  an  address, 
on  the  great  American  revival  of  a  year  or  two  before. 
I  sat  directly  in  front  of  the  speaker,  and  he  at  one  point, 
desiring  to  fix  a  certain  date,  said,  with  evident  effort  to 

remember,  "This  was  in 1857;  wasn't  it?"  he  suddenly 

added,  fastening  his  eyes  on  me,  and  perhaps  reinforcing  his 
reference  with  a  demonstrative  forefinger.  I  was  too  much 
taken  by  surprise  to  do  anything  but  nod  my  head  in  token 
of  confirmation.  I  trust  I  was  forgiven,  if  I  did  this  rather 
to  close  the  incident,  than  because  I  was  really  on  the  instant 
perfectly  clear  that  his  date  was  right! 

I  may  properly  close  this  prefatory  note  with  a  word  of 
personal  acknowledgment.  Partly  no  doubt  because  his  in- 
fluence was  exerted  upon  me  when  I  was  in  the  plastic  and 
susceptible  period  of  youth,  still  more  perhaps  because  I 
was  by  nature  of  a  disposition  to  respond  to  precisely  such  an 


CHARLES  GRANDISON  FINNEY  287 

influence  as  his,  Mr.  Finney  did  in  fact  contribute  to  the 
molding  of  my  own  ideal  in  preaching,  beyond  any  other 
man  in  the  world  since  Paul.  The  best  way  for  readers  of 
this  criticism  to  make  themselves  amends  for  not  having 
enjoyed  the  privilege  of  witnessing  in  person  Finney's  con- 
duct of  what  we.  perhaps  not  quite  happily,  call  a  "  revival," 
is  to  procure  a  copy  of  his  book,  entitled  "  Lectures  on 
Revivals,"  and  read  that  again  and  again  with  studious  heed. 
In  that  book,  Charles  G.  Finney  and  his  method  lives  and 
is  immortal.  (I  use  the  verb  in  the  singular,  for  his  method 
is  one  with  the  man.) 

In  paying  this  tribute  to  the  genius  and  memory  of  Finney, 
and  especially  in  making  the  admiring  mention  that  I  do 
of  his  "  Lectures  on  Revivals,"  I  would  not  be  understood 
not  to  have  my  personal  reserves  as  to  the  matter  here  and 
there  of  his  preaching.  He  permitted  himself  occasional 
extravagances  of  assertion  such  as  I  by  no  means  consider 
safe  models  for  the  pulpit  to  fpllow.  He  must  be  read  with 
application  of  discount  where  there  is  need,  and  need  at 
times  there  is,  which  the  studious  reader  should  be  on  the 
alert  to  discern.  Finney's  over-expression  is  an  incident  of 
his  method,  but  it  is  not  of  the  essence  of  his  method.  It 
is  indeed  less  a  matter  of  method  than  a  matter  of  tempera- 
ment. It  would  be  equally  unwise,  on  the  one  hand,  to  turn 
away  from  him,  deterred  by  his  excesses  of  statement,  and, 
on  the  other  hand,  to  approve  him  and  imitate  him  in  these. 


CHARLES  GRANDISON  FINNEY 

One  of  the  greatest  of  preachers  ceased  from  among  men 
when  the  patriarch  of  Oberhn  died.  I  question,  indeed, 
whether  any  human  being  ever  preached,  during  a  long 
series  of  years  with  greater  power  than  did  Charles  G. 
Finney.  A  little  attempt  at  analysis  of  his  eloquence  may 
be  interesting  as  well  as  profitable.  It  will  not  be  unseason- 
able either,  although  made  now,  while  the  public  heart  is 
still  vibrating  with  the  shock  communicated  by  the  news  of 
his  sudden  departure. 

Sudden  his  departure  was;  but  it  was  not  premature. 
His  sun  did  not  go  down  until  the  long,  lingering  day  was 
complete.  It  hung  soft  and  splendid  on  the  horizon^  shed- 
ding a  full,  though  mellow,  light  through  the  unclouded  air, 
not  as  if  reluctant  to  descend,  but  as  if  loving  yet  a  while 
longer  to  bless  —  until  now,  at  last,  by  the  abrupt  refraction 
of  death,  it  is  hidden  forever  from  our  eyes.  Besides  this, 
President  Finney's  moral  and  intellectual  quality  was  such 
that  we  honor  and  not  wrong  his  memory  when  we  try, 
in  whatever  way,  to  turn  his  example  to  useful  practical 
account. 

It  so  happened  that  I  was  a  student  in  the  University  of 
Rochester  when,  in  the  winter  of  1855-6,  President  Finney 
held  the  last  of  his  remarkable  series  of  preaching  services 
in  that  city.  Preaching  services  I  say;  but  I  am  imme- 
diately in  doubt  whether  I  might  not  equally  well  characterize 
them  as  praying  services.  For  it  was  an  essential  feature 
of  Mr.  Finney's  method  as  a  revivalist  to  establish  daily 
prayer-meetings  at  the  outset,  in  connection  with  his  preach- 
ing; and  even  the  coldly  rationalizing  observer  of  his  work 
would  have  been  forced  to  confess  that  the  praying,  if  only 
as  a  means  of  human  self-excitation,  was,  not  less  than  the 

288 


CHARLES  GRANDISON  FINNEY  289 

sermons,  the  secret  of  his  wonderful  success.  In  1825,  or 
thereabouts,  some  thirty  years  before,  while  Rochester  was 
still  a  village  and  while  Mr.  Finney  was  still  a  young  man, 
he  had  made  that  place  the  theater  of  his  efforts  as  a  revival- 
ist. Some  of  the  most  prominent  citizens  of  the  town, 
converted  at  that  time,  especially  from  among  the  lawyers, 
were  in  1855  y^t  living  to  welcome  Mr.  Finney  back  to 
Rochester  as  their  spiritual  father. 

I  had  somehow  contrived  never  to  hear  much  of  Mr.  Fin- 
ney until  he  came  to  preach  in  Rochester  at  this  time.  I 
accordingly  went  at  first  to  listen  to  his  preaching,  without 
any  preconceived  ideas  whatever  of  its  peculiar  character. 
I  was  not  at  all  attracted  to  go  a  second  time.  I  failed  to 
detect  in  his  method  anything  that  promised  to  command 
the  public  attention.  A  few  days,  however,  passed,  and 
the  public  attention  undoubtedly  was  commanded,  and  I 
resumed  attendance  at  the  meetings.  These  were  protracted 
through  a  period,  as  I  now  remember  it,  of  at  least  three 
months.  The  interest  was  extraordinary.  The  city  was 
taken  possession  of.  Scarcely  anything  else  was  talked 
about.  The  atmosphere  was  full  of  a  kind  of  electricity 
of  spiritual  power.  The  daily  papers  all  reported  the  meet- 
ings at  great  length.  Strangers  casually  visiting  the  city 
were  unable  to  resist  the  infection  of  the  prevailing  religious 
influence.  The  railroads  at  one  time,  I  remember,  were 
obstructed  by  a  snowstorm,  which  detained  large  numbers 
of  passengers  temporarily  in  the  city.  A  large  proportion 
of  these  were  attracted  into  the  meetings.  The  result  was 
that  a  great  many,  during  this  brief  interval,  were  con- 
verted. People  accosted  each  other  in  the  street,  and  began 
an  exchange  of  question  and  reply  on  the  subject  of  personal 
religion,  as  naturally  and  easily  almost  as  in  a  time  of  com- 
mercial distress  they  would  talk  of  the  financial  condition 
of  the  country ;  or,  to  use  an  apter  illustration,  as  in  a  time 
of  epidemic  disease  they  would  talk  of  their  own  health 
and  of  that  of  their  families  and  friends. 

It  was  the  second  year  following,  1857-58,  that  the  great 
S 


290  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

business  panic  spread  universal  monetary  disaster  over  the 
country,  accompanied  and  succeeded  by  the  memorable  re- 
ligious revival  which  marks  that  as  so  important  an  epoch  in 
the  calendar  of  the  American  churches.  The  Rochester 
movement,  under  Mr.  Finney's  preaching,  was,  therefore,  in- 
dependent of  that  more  general  awakening.  It  had  no  rela- 
tion to  it,  unless  it  were  in  some  degree  a  precursor  and 
producer  of  it. 

Leaving  out  of  account  the  supernatural  element  that 
wrought  in  the  Rochester  movement,  we  see  Mr.  Finney 
standing  in  it  apart  and  alone,  as  its  single  master  spirit, 
as  the  Prospero  —  if  such  an  application  will  not  be  deemed 
unworthy  of  the  theme  —  the  Prospero  of  the  mighty  moral 
tempest. 

I  am  profoundly  persuaded  that  Mr.  Finney  was  a  man  of 
God,  in  the  antique,  scriptural  sense  of  that  expression.  I 
have  no  doubt  that  he  derived,  through  prayer  and  obedient 
living,  from  the  Holy  Ghost  himself  that  extraordinary,  that 
supernatural,  power  which  he  wielded  (if  it  did  not  rather 
wield  him)  in  his  preaching.  This  is  my  unwavering  con- 
viction. I  record  it  as  my  own  joyful  personal  witness  to 
what  I  believe  to  have  been  in  his  case  the  strengthening  and 
inspiring  fact,  and  to  be  in  the  case  of  each  one  of  us  all  the 
strengthening  and  inspiring  possibility. 

But  the  divine  supernatural  factor  of  Mr.  Finney's  influ- 
ence as  a  preacher  is,  of  course,  beyond  our  exploration  and 
analysis.  We  have  done  our  duty  and  exhausted  our  priv- 
ilege concerning  it,  when  we  have  devoutly  acknowledged 
its  presence  and  noted,  besides,  the  human  conditions  of  its 
presence.  These  conditions  are,  in  fact,  one  condition. 
They  may  all  be  summed  up  in  a  single  word  —  obedience. 
Mr.  Finney  obeyed  God.  His  obedience  was  the  conducting 
medium  that  drew  down  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost  upon 
him.  If  his  obedience  had  been  still  better  than  it  was,  it 
would  have  drawn  down  upon  him  the  same  power  in  still 
greater  measure. 

For  there  is  no  limit  to  the  divine  power  that  is  ready 


CHARLES  GRANDISON  FINNEY  291 

to  pour  down  upon  us  at  the  demand  of  an  obedient  spirit 
on  our  part.  We  have  but  to  enlarge  the  conducting  ca- 
pacity of  the  medium  appointed,  in  order  to  receive  in 
corresponding  degree  all  the  promised  fulness  of  God. 
Christ  was  not  alone;  his  Father  was  with  him,  because  he 
was  perfectly  obedient.  He  did  always  those  things  that 
pleased  Him. 

When  I  use  the  word  obedience  thus,  of  course  I  do  not 
mean  a  conformity  merely  in  act.  I  mean  a  voluntary  con- 
formity in  being  as  well  as  in  doing.  I  include  faith,  or 
trust,  as  a  part  of  obedience.  Mr.  Finney's  faith,  which 
some,  no  doubt,  would  make  to  be  the  prime  element  of  his 
power,  had  nothing  of  vagueness  or  of  mysticism  in  it.  It 
was  practical.  It  was  obedience  rather.  It  did  not  seek  to 
exist  by  itself,  and  exert,  as  it  were,  a  magical  influence,  a 
kind  of  self-flattering  miraculous  power.  It  was  content 
to  take  God  at  his  word  and  act  accordingly.  It  went  right 
on  and  obeyed.  This,  I  think,  on  the  side  of  personal  piety, 
and  on  the  side,  too,  of  the  divine  factor  in  pulpit  power, 
is  the  great  lesson  to  us  of  Mr.  Finney's  life.  According 
as  our  obedience  matches  Mr.  Finney's,  God  will  make  us 
strong  like  him;  but,  of  course,  in  correspondence  also  with 
our  mental  and  moral  capacities,  natural  and  acquired. 
What  these  were  in  Mr.  Finney,  I  go  on  now  to  exhibit. 

As  I  have  already  said,  no  analysis  of  Mr.  Finney's  pulpit 
power  would  be  satisfactory,  that  did  not  take  account  of 
the  preacher's  personal  religious  character.  He  believed 
God  like  Abraham ;  like  Abraham,  believing,  he  obeyed,  and, 
I  repeat  it,  God  honored  this  faith  and  this  obedience  by 
answering  communications  of  power  to  his  servant.  In 
what  follows,  however,  I  seek  to  name  merely  the  ordinary 
and  natural  elements  of  Mr.  Finney's  power  in  preaching. 

In  the  first  place,  Mr.  Finney  had  a  distinct  and  consistent 
theological  system,  I  do  not  say  that  his  system  was  true. 
I  need  not  raise  the  question  whether  it  was  true  or  false. 
It  was  a  system,  and  it  was  distinct  and  consistent,  whether 
false  or  true.     It  is  not  Mr.  Finney's  orthodoxy  that  I  am 


y 


292 


MASTERS  OF.  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


now  making  an  element  of  his  power.  It  is  his  determinate 
and  systematic  theology.  He  had  a  whole  scheme  of  doc- 
trine. The  Gospel  that  he  preached  was  a  plan,  with  all 
its  parts  perfectly  articulated  and  mutually  harmonious. 

But  it  was  not  so  much  the  linked  coherence  of  his  theo- 
logical scheme  that  contributed  to  his  power,  as  it  was  the 
fact  of  the  scheme's  being  his  own.  The  scheme  was  his 
not  because  he  accepted  it,  but  because  he  made  it.  It  may 
have  been  coincident,  more  or  less,  with  other  schemes. 
Whether  less  or  more,  mattered  nothing  to  Mr.  Finney.  He 
neither  received  nor  rejected  a  doctrine  because  it  was  in 
accordance  with  standards.  He  put  nothing  into  his  scheme 
that  he  had  not  himself  fully  tried  by  his  own  tests.  He 
knew  his  system  not  as  a  man  might  that  had  thoroughly 
learned  it.  He  knew  it  as  only  that  man  could  who  had 
framed  it  for  himself.  He  imposed  it  upon  others  with 
absolute  confidence,  because  it  reflected  his  own  thought 
and  experience. 

In  the  second  place  (I  might  almost  say  the  third,  so  dis- 
tinct are  the  two  things  first  named),  the  same  constitution  of 
mind  that  made  it  a  necessity  for  Mr.  Finney  to  have  a  com- 
plete scheme  of  theological  doctrine  made  it  a  necessity  for 
him  to  be  an  analytical  preacher.  His  mind  was  of  logic  all 
compact.  His  sermons  were  wonderful  specimens  oT~clear 
and  exhaustive  analysis.  They  resembled  Jonathan  Ed- 
wards's in  this  respect.  He  never  said  anything  merely  for 
the  sake  of  saying  something.  Not  a  step  was  taken  but  in 
the  line  of  straight  advance  toward  the  predetermined  goal. 
The  hearer  was  never  at  a  loss  to  perceive  the  relation  of 
one  thing  to  another  in  the  discourse.  The  interest,  how- 
ever, was  not  speculative,  but  practical.  Mr.  Finney  did 
not  suffer  his  delight  in  argument  to  mislead  him  to  indulge 
in  argument  for  its  own  sake.  The  conclusion  was  always 
more  to  him  than  the  process,  while  yet  without  due  process 
no  conclusion  was  ever  sought  to  be  reached.  He  never 
expatiated.    He  was  constantly  advancing. 

There  was  a  moral  quality  in  this  analytic  habit  of  Mr. 


CHARLES  GRANDISON  FINNEY  293 

Finney's  mind.  His  analysis  of  his  subject  was  the  result 
of  conscientious  painstaking.  It  was  not  simply  because 
his  mind  must  work  in  this  way.  It  was,  perhaps,  quite  as 
much  because  his  mind  —  that  is,  his  conscience  —  would 
work  in  this  way.  It  was  his  duty  to  produce  thought  when- 
ever he  preached,  and  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  his 
sermon  he  recognized  the  duty  and  fulfilled  it.  In  the 
result,  his  duty  no  doubt  became  his  delight. 

In  the  third  place,  accordingly,  Mr.  Finney's  method  was 
to  move  the  heart  always  through  the  mind.  Never  even  in 
the  height  of  a  revival  did  he  think  it  wise  to  use  simply^ 
the  emotion  already  engendered  in  his  hearers,  without  seek- 
ing to  give  it  more  fuel  in  further  truth,  that  it  might  burn 
still  deeper  and  still  higher.  His  rule  was:  Forever  more 
truth.  Truth,  therefore,  he  continued  to  deliver  with  all 
the  greater  industry  and  zeal  for  seeing  striking  results 
already  obtained.  He  never  seemed  distracted  for  a  mo- 
ment from  his  true  aim,  to  enjoy  the  spectacle  of  his  own 
work.  He  stood  like  a  worker  in  iron  at  his  forge,  con-' 
stantly  heaping  on  coal  or  blowing  at  the  bellows  to  force 
his  fire  to  its  necessary  heat,  and  then  smiting  with  strength 
and  heed  to  fashion  the  metal  to  his  mind,  but  pausing  never 
to  relish,  as  a  bystander  might,  the  warmth,  to  admire  the 
blaze  and  sparkle,  or  to  watch  the  effect  of  successive  blows. 
When  one  piece  was  finished  it  was  instantly  put  aside,  and 
another  plunged  into  the  glowing  fire  or  thence  drawn  out 
and  laid  upon  the  resounding  anvil.  The  solvent  heat  of 
feeling  Mr.  Finney  did  not  seek  to  produce  for  its  own  sake, 
but  for  the  sake  of  preparing  character  to  be  molded  into 
better  forms.  The  hearer  experienced  no  reaction  after 
going  out  from  under  the  preacher's  personal  influence,  as 
of  shame  at. discovering,  upon  cool,  sober  reflection,  that  he 
had  suffered  himself  to  be  wrought  up  to  heights  of  emotion 
for  which  he  could  not  find  adequate  reason  existing  in 
his  judgment. 

In  the  fourth  place,  Mr.  Finney  exercised  faith  as  im- 
agination, or  as  the  faculty  of  realization,  to  a  degree  of 


294 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


vividness  which  I  think  I  never  saw  equaled  in  any  other 
man. 

Unseen  realities  were  present  to  him.  Not  present  only, 
but  distinct  and  tangible.  His  own  vision  of  them  impressed 
his  hearers  with  a  communicated  secondary  sense  of  their 
seeing  them  also  themselves.  He  looked  and  spoke  and 
acted  like  a  man  who  was  handling  the  invisible  and  im- 
palpable realities  of  the  eternal  world,  there  in  the  living 
presence  of  his  congregation.  You  could  no  more  escape 
the  impression  of  the  preacher's  being  engaged  with  things 
that  were  real,  however  insubstantial,  than  you  could  in  the 
case  of  an  accomplished  experimentalist  in  physics  manipu- 
lating his  viewless  gases  under  your  eyes  in  the  public  lec- 
ture-room. It  is  an  unworthy  source  of  illustration;  but 
modern  spiritualism  furnishes  us  a  peculiar  use  of  language 
appropriate  to  our  purpose.  The  unseen  and  eternal  truths 
of  the  spiritual  world  "  materialized "  for  Mr,  Finney,  and 
his  hearers  could  see  them,  hear  them,  handle  them.  "  That 
which  was  from  the  beginning,  which  we  have  heard,  which 
we  have  seen  with  our  eyes,  which  we  have  looked  upon 
and  our  hands  have  handled  " —  this  seemed  to  be  the  lan- 
guage of  the  preacher,  though  more  justly  it  might  be  said 
that  his  whole  appearance  changed  these  actions  of  the 
senses  to  the  present  tense;  and  he  spoke  to  his  congrega- 
tion of  what  he  was  at  that  self-same  moment  hearing, 
seeing  with  his  eyes,  looking  upon,  and  handling  with  his 
hands.  The  impression  of  living  reality  thus  produced  was 
irresistible. 

Of  the  same  kind,  in  the  fifth  place,  was  Mr.  Finney's 
habit  of  appeal  to  his  hearers'  own  consciousness.  This  was 
a  very  salient  feature  of  his  preaching.  He  had  his  system  of 
psychology  no  less  thoroughly  elaborated  than  was  his  system 
of  theology.  Indeed,  his  psychology  entered  as  an  essential 
part  into  his  theology.  Scripture  and  consciousness  were 
sources  of  authority  for  oratorical  resort,  of  coordinate  and 
equal  value  with  Mr.  Finney.  An  appeal  to  consciousness 
was  his  ever  available  short  method  of  argument.  He  assured 


CHARLES  GRANDISON  FINNEY 


295 


his  hearers  what  they  knew  and  how  they  felt,  with  an  air  of 
certitude  and  infallibility  that  left  them  no  room  to  doubt 
his  being  right.  His  ascendant  will  overpowered  any  strug- 
gling resistance  on  their  part,  and  they  unhesitatingly  ac- 
cepted the  speaker's  statement  of  what  they  knew  and  how 
they  felt,  as  the  unassailable  testimony  of  their  own  con- 
sciousness. Of  course,  Mr.  Finney  was  generally  as  ac- 
curate as  he  was  conscientious,  in  thus  interpreting  men's 
hearts  to  themselves.  But,  whether  right  or  wrong,  he  was 
believed  by  them,  such  was  the  overwhelming  force  of  his 
imperial  asseveration ;  and  that  answered  equally  well  every 
purpose  of  his  argument. 

To  the  five  elements  into  which  I  have  thus  analyzed  the 
secret,  on  the  human  side,  of  Mr.  Finney's  effectiveness  as 
preacher,  add  a  sixth  element,  consisting  of  an  elocution  that 
matched  admirably  with  the  intellectual  and  moral  character- 
istics of  the  sermon,  and  you  have,  I  think,  the  principal  ele- 
ments of  his  pulpit-power.  But  perhaps  I  ought  expressly  to 
point  out  one  thing  further,  which  may  not  have  been  so 
clearly  in  the  reader's  mind  as  all  through  this  paper  it  has 
been  in  my  own,  the  fact  that  he  had  a  perfectly  definite  and, 
still  more,  the  one  only  right,  idea  of  the  object  of  all  preach- 
ing—  namely,  to  get  men  to  obey  God. 


XI 
PERE  FELIX 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

The  following  paper,  different  from  the  rest  in  being 
the  report  of  a  single  occasion,  and  not  an  inductive  study 
of  the  preacher  founded  on  a  collation  of  numerous  instances 
of  his  work,  is  the  earliest  of  all  the  series  in  date  of  com- 
position. It  was  written  during  the  winter  of  1861-2  —  the 
same  winter  during  which  I  made  the  acquaintance,  both 
public  and  private,  of  Eugene  Bersier.  It  constitutes  a  kind 
of  photograph,  instantaneous  photograph,  of  the  impression 
vividly  produced  on  my  mind  by  the  occasion  it  describes. 
It  was  written  very  rapidly  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  on  the 
very  day  when  I  heard  the  sermon  which  is  reported.  I 
give  it  without  change,  at  any  point  after  the  first  paragraph, 
from  the  form  that  it  spontaneously  took  at  the  time;  the 
first  paragraph  was  prefixed  a  few  years  subsequently,  to  fit 
it  for  appearing  as  a  magazine  article  —  which  it  did  in 
"Putnam's  Monthly"  (second  series),  later  merged  in 
"  Scribner's  Monthly,"  the  periodical  now  known  as  "  The 
Century  Magazine."  In  "  Putnam's  Monthly,"  for  reasons 
of  "  journalism,"  it  was  printed  under  the  title,  "  Father 
Hyacinthe's  Predecessor  at  Notre  Dame."  It  probably  needs 
to  be  explained  —  such  is  the  fugacity  of  fame ! —  that  Father 
Hyacinthe  (Charles  Loyson),  a  Roman  Catholic  preacher, 
after  exciting  suspicion  against  himself  as  too  "  liberal "  in 
his  views  and  in  his  public  expressions  —  a  suspicion  which, 
however,  the  accused  succeeded  in  allaying  by  his  defence 
of  himself  before  the  pope  —  visited  this  country  and  was 
here  warmly  received.  This  was  just  before  the  magazine 
publication  of  the  present  paper. 

299 


300  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

Pere  Felix  (or,  le  Pere  Felix,  as  I  suppose  we  ought  to  say, 
unless  we  freely  anglicize  and  say,  "  Father  Felix")  died  in 
1891,  at  eighty-one  years  of  age.  His  discourses,  delivered  in 
Notre  Dame, —  Conferences,  they  are  called  in  French  — 
have  been  published  in  numerous  volumes.  His  name,  be- 
fore he  became  a  member  of  the  "  Society  of  Jesus,"  was 
Celestin-Joseph  Felix.  An  affectionately  laudatory  biography 
of  Father  Felix  was  published  in  a  small  volume,  the  year 
following  his  death.  This  biography  contains  some  rather 
interesting  notes  of  a  personal  relationship  between  Father 
Felix  and  the  famous  author  of  that  brilliant  philosophical 
work,  "  Du  Vrai,  du  Beau,  du  Bien,"  "  The  True,  the  Beau- 
tiful, the  Good,"  Victor  Cousin.  Cousin,  destined  soon  to 
die,  took  leave  of  Father  Felix  on  the  eve  of  starting  for 
Cannes  in  quest  of  health,  with  words  that  no  doubt  pro- 
foundly delighted  that  ecclesiastic :  "  Be  assured,  my  Father, 
that  I  shaH  not  die  without  the  crucifix  in  my  hand." 
Cousin  in  fact  died  in  Cannes  by  a  stroke  of  apoplexy  suffered 
while  he  was  seated  at  the  breakfast  table. 


P^RE  FELIX 

Everything  is  defined  by  its  antithesis.  The  vivid  pnbh'c 
interest  rife  at  the  actual  moment  respecting  Father 
Hyacinthe  recalls  his  brilliant  rival  and  contrast,  Father 
Felix.  Father  Felix  preceded  Father  Hyacinthe  as  preacher 
at  Notre-Dame.  He  represented  the  extreme  papal  interest 
in  the  Gallican  church.  He  was  set  forth  by  this  interest 
as  the  voice  most  capable  of  stemming  the  tide  of  liberal 
sentiment  on  which,  partly  swelling  it,  partly  guiding  it, 
but  chiefly  borne  by  it,  Father  Lacordaire  had  rode  into  his 
easy  and  magnificent  renown.  After  a  few  seasons  of  his 
Conferences  at  Notre-Dame,  attended  by  vast  congregations 
of  the  selectest  wit  and  wisdom  of  Paris,  Father  Felix 
yielded  his  place  again  to  Lacordaire's  true  successor.  Father 
Hyacinthe.  Such  is  the  oscillating,  if  not  vacillating,  policy 
with  which  Rome  essays  to  stop  Time,  and  turn  the  vC'heels 
of  Progress  backward. 

Father  Felix  enlisted  no  sympathy.  But  the  absence  of 
sympathy  only  enhances  the  splendor  of  his  intellectual 
triumph.  Rarely  has  any  arena  of  oratorical  gladiatorship 
witnessed  feats  of  strength  and  of  skill,  at  the  same  time 
so  barren  and  so  admirable.  The  coolness,  and  the  poise, 
and  the  confidence  of  power,  with  which  this  man  sallied 
out,  single-handed  as  it  were,  against  the  bristling  and  im- 
penetrable front  of  God's  embattled  providential  forces, 
would  have  been  sublime  audacity,  had  he  himself  been 
conscious  of  the  odds.  As  it  was,  to  Protestant  eyes  it 
seemed  like  pure  light-hearted  foolhardihood,  saved,  however, 
from  grotesqueness  by  the  marvelous  address  of  the  cham- 
pion. 

There  are  well-pronounced  varieties  —  for  aught  I  know, 
quite  endlessly  numerous  —  of  efifects  that  may  be  produced 

301 


302 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


by  eloquence.  Here,  certainly,  was  a  variety  which  to  my 
experience  was  novel.  It  may  not  be  devoid  of  interest  to 
the  reader  to  have  it  described.  Let  me  describe  it  by  tell- 
ing the  story  of  my  first  Sunday  morning  at  Notre-Dame, 
during  one  of  the  Lents  when  Father  Felix  was  the  preacher 
there. 

The  hour  for  the  sermon  to  commence  was  half-past  one. 
I  went  before  twelve,  and  not  too  soon.  At  twelve  the  best 
seats  in  the  choir  of  the  church  were  all  taken.  I  paid  a 
charge  of  three  sous  at  the  entrance  of  the  choir  for  a  seat 
at  my  choice.  I  wandered  up  and  down  the  aisle  extem- 
porized between  the  rows  of  chairs  already  occupied,  and 
finally  was  negotiating  with  a  policeman — omnipresent  rep- 
resentative of  the  Government  —  for  the  privilege  of  a  place 
in  the  aisle,  when  that  space  should  be  closed  up,  expecting 
to  stand,  an  hour,  till  then.  Unexpectedly,  and  quite  out  of 
precedent,  a  young  man  near  by  beckoned  to  me,  and  gave 
me  a  chair  (which  he  had  sat  two  or  three  hours  to  reserve) 
by  his  side.  I  tried  to  repay  him  with  my  gratitude,  and  I 
succeeded,  for  he  volunteered,  as  we  went  out,  to  keep  a 
place  for  me  the  following  Sunday.    I  engaged  it. 

This  young  man,  a  student,  unlike  almost  all  his  fellows, 
seemed  religious.  He  crossed  himself,  and  murmured  pray- 
ers, and  bowed,  and  chanted,  during  the  mass  preceding  the 
sermon.  At  odd  spells  —  I  ought  to  say,  not  exactly  within 
the  time  occupied  by  the  mass,  however  —  he  told  me  how 
the  Pere  Felix  was  the  most  eloquent  man  of  the  times; 
that  he  was  superior  to  Father  Lacordaire,  just  deceased; 
that  some  called  him  the  Bossuet  of  the  nineteenth  century; 
that  all  the  celebrities  of  journalism,  of  philosophy,  of  letters 
in  Paris,  were  in  the  audience.  I  asked  him  if  he  was  a 
hearer  of  M.  St.  Hilaire  at  the  Sorbonne.  He  said  yes, 
and  gratified  me,  and  confirmed  himself  in  my  good  opinion, 
by  giving,  he  a  Catholic,  to  M.  St.  Hilaire,  a  Protestant, 
just  that  character  of  earnestness  and  of  suasion  which  I 
had  attributed  to  him  myself. 

That  vast  cathedral,  meantime,  filled  itself  to  the  remotest 


PERE  FELIX 


303 


corner  of  its  lofty  galleries  —  now  I  did  not  quite  see 
exactly  that,  but  I  believe  it  —  while,  at  intervals,  I  read  a 
report,  bought  the  day  before  of  the  previous  sermon  of 
Father  Felix.  I  found  it  so  splendid,  that  I  conjectured  it 
might  have  been  an  unusual  inspiration,  and  accordingly 
prepared  myself  to  be  disappointed  in  the  efifort  of  the  day. 
I  was  disappointed,  but  it  was  by  having  my  utmost  expecta- 
tions surpassed. 

Father  Felix  addressed  himself  to  the  times,  and  did  not 
beat  the  air.  His  general  subject  for  the  season  was,  "  The 
Harmony  of  Reason  and  Faith."  His  sermons  were  polemics 
against  Rationalism,  which  had  spoken  a  recent  and  bold 
word  through  M.  Renan,  and  been  silenced  for  it  there,  at 
the  College  of  France.  The  Church  —  that  Church  which 
claims  by  eminence,  nay,  exclusively,  to  be  the  pillar  and 
ground  of  the  truth  —  hastened  officiously  to  the  war.  Cer- 
tainly Father  Felix  was  no  mean  champion.  And,  that  day 
being  taken  as  a  specimen,  he  spoke  for  Protestantism,  as  well 
as  for  Catholicism  —  better  even.  I  can  easily  believe  that 
the  truth,  in  its  abstract,  intellectual  form,  might  call  the  mus- 
ter-roll of  its  confessors,  from  beginning  to  end,  without 
getting  the  response  of  a  clearer-ringing  voice  than  that  of 
Father  Felix.  M,  Bersier  had  told  me  he  was  a  Jesuit,  and 
a  thorough  one.  Surely  he  was  thorough  one.  Such  adroit 
adjustment  to  time,  and  place,  and  public  temper  —  such 
fencing,  with  logic  vivified  into  rhetoric  —  such  swift  and 
infallible  encounter  of  the  precise  face  offered  by  the  revolv- 
ing prism  of  the  question  of  the  hour  —  such  perfect  blend- 
ing of  the  man  of  the  world  with  the  son  of  the  church,  in 
that  seductive  deference  to  the  rationalizing  spirit  of  the 
age  and  that  profound  obeisance  to  hierarchical  authority  — 
it  was  worthy  of  the  all-accomplished  member  of  the  Society 
of  Jesus. 

A  man  of  medium  stature,  not  forty  years  old,  with  a 
head  that  you  would  call  round,  and  a  rubicund  complexion, 
—  such  appeared  Father  Felix  to  me.  His  eloquence  bor- 
rowed little  from  his  personal  appearance,  nor  did  his  per- 


304  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

sonal  appearance  at  any  time  seem  transfigured  by  his  elo- 
quence. His  voice,  without  being  anything  extraordinary, 
was  sufficiently  musical,  and  it  sent  itself  in  clear  globules  of 
pure  pronunciation,  and  elastic  emphasis,  to  the  farthest 
recesses  of  that  pillared  auditorium. 

Hearing  him  preach  was  like  seeing  a  salt  crystallize. 
His  matter  seemed  instinct  with  some  spirit  of  life  that 
moved  it  into  perfect  forms.  Every  sentence  was  a  formu- 
lated thought  —  definite,  clear,  sharp,  ultimate  —  like  a 
crystal.  The  whole  discourse  was  a  glittering  mass  of  crys- 
tallization—  like  those  superb  mountains  of  crystal,  helped 
by  art  to  their  symmetry  of  aggregation,  which  they  show 
you,  at  Paris,  in  the  Conservatoire  des  Arts  et  Metiers. 

It  may  be  thought,  from  my  illustration  of  the  crystalliz- 
ing process,  that  there  was  not  much  warmth  in  Father 
Felix's  eloquence.  And  I  cannot  say  that  there  was.  If 
there  was  any,  it  was  an  incidental  evolution,  like  the  heat 
which  kindles  during  an  energetic  chemical  action.  As  for 
generous,  vital,  personal  warmth,  according  to  my  thinking, 
there  was  none.  The  speaker's  weapon  was  a  lance  of 
lightning,  vivid,  rapid,  deadly.  There  was  no  thunderburst. 
The  blade  leaped  suddenly  to  its  mark,  in  silence,  and  pierced 
it  always.     Not  an  aim  missed. 

Of  course,  I  describe  the  effect.  There  were  passages  of 
comparatively  sonorous  declamation;  but  the  sound  made 
no  part  of  the  impression  on  me.  It  was  the  swift,  barbed 
thought,  and  the  arrowy  words. 

The  form  of  the  discourse  was  as  perfect  as  a  type  of 
nature.  It  was  tripartite,  and  completely,  exhaustively,  com- 
prehensive of  the  subject  —  which  was,  for  the  day,  how 
the  harmony  of  Reason  and  Faith  is  destroyed: 

I  St.     Either  by  the  absorption  of  Reason  in  Faith; 

2d.     Or  by  the  absorption  of  Faith  in  Reason; 

3d.     Or  by  the  separation  of  Reason  and  Faith. 

The  special  admirable  quality  of  the  treatment  was  deH- 
nition,  sharp  as  a  schoolman's,  but  without  the  schoolman's 
over-refinement.     If  thought  is  distinction,  as  has  been  said, 


PERE  FELIX  305 

then  here  was  thought.  It  is  surprising  how  little  remains 
for  discussion,  after  terms  are  defined.  The  orator  hardly 
did  any  thing  more  than  state  the  three  ways  of  destroy- 
ing the  proper  harmony  of  Reason  with  Faith  —  and  rested, 
as  the  lawyers  say.  After  stating  the  current  rationalism, 
the  whole  purport  of  which,  quoting,  respectfully,  from  an 
"  illustrious  Protestant,"  he  declared  to  be  the  denial  of  the 
supernatural,  either  a«  existing  or  as  possible,  he  rose  into 
a  lofty  sphere  of  indignant  declamation,  protesting,  in  the 
name  of  humanity,  that  the  supernatural  does  exist.  It  was 
as  splendid  as  anything  could  possibly  be  —  without  the 
awe-aspiring  wrath  of  a  passionate  heart.  The  cold  flash 
of  his  eloquence  lighted  the  place,  like  the  heatless  flame 
of  the  white  Aurora  Borealis.  The  ice-fields  of  the  North 
Pole  throw  such  a  reflection  of  the  sunshine  which  they 
freeze. 

As  the  orator  impaled  Rationalism,  shuddering  on  his 
spear,  naked  and  self-conscious  —  unharmed,  save  by  a  too 
relentless  exposure  —  his  unsympathizing  audience  could 
not  repress  an  audible  laugh  —  the  most  curious,  and  most 
worthy  of  analysis,  that  I  ever  heard.  It  did  not  mean 
amusement.  It  did  not  mean  gratification.  It  did  not  mean 
applause.  It  meant  simply  the  recognition  of  success,  with- 
out emotion  of  any  kind  whatever.  It  was  almost  cynical 
on  both  sides. 

How  do  I  account  for  this  strange  phenomenon  —  the 
absence  of  sympathy  between  speaker  and  hearer  —  in  the 
midst  of  such  resplendent  oratory?  Whether  it  was  sub- 
jective or  not  with  me  —  it  was,  in  part,  I  can  readily, 
believe  —  I  felt  the  repellent  charm,  radiant  around  that 
white-robed  priest,  of  his  Jesuitical  character.  He  stood 
there  insulated  entirely  from  the  electric  touches  of  those 
human  hearts,  by  the  vitreous  non-conductors  of  his  eccle- 
siasticism.  Representative  of  a  suspected  order,  priest^  celi- 
bate, Jesuit  —  how  solitary  he  was  !  I  could  have  pitied  my 
human  brother;  but  in  the  pride  of  schooled  and  imperial 
intellect,  he  wanted  nothing  that  the  heart  had  to  ofifer. 
T 


3o6  MASTERS  OF  FULPIT  DISCOURSE 

You  felt,  rightly  or  wrongly,  that  the  cleaving  words  he 
spoke  were  spoken  more  in  the  interest  of  church,  than  in 
the  interest  of  truth,  much  more  than  in  the  interest  of  hu- 
manity. You  wished  him  success  against  his  foe  —  for  it 
was  also  your  foe  —  but  you  did  not  wish  him  the  success. 
It  was  a  strange  suspense  you  experienced  between  good 
emotions.  You  had  no  sympathy  for  either  of  the  com- 
batants ;  you  had  no  positive  feeling  at  all ;  you  were  hostile 
toward  the  one,  and  you  could  not  be  friendly  toward  the 
other.  I  should  have  said  that  your  only  positive  feeling 
was  a  disagreeable  one. 

Oh,  if  the  heart  of  Luther  could  have  stormed  and  thun- 
dered from  that  Olympus  of  intellect!  If  that  mute,  angry, 
lightning-tongued  sky  could  have  broken  the  spell  that  kept 
it  arid !  If  it  could  have  burst  in  sobs  of  passionate  rain ! 
Those  who  have  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  hearing  Father 
Hyacinthe  from  the  same  place,  know  how  different  and 
how  much  more  grateful  and  more  fruitful  is  the  efifect  of 
eloquence  when  the  heart  answers  to  the  head  like  Jura  to 
the  Alps.  A  mute  tempest  of  cloud  and  lightning  without 
thunder  or  rain  is  the  symbol  of  Father  Felix.  A  tropical 
burst  of  shower  is  the  symbol  of  Father  Hyacinthe. 

Light  without  heat  was  Father  Felix's  sermon  to  me  that 
day.  No  translation  is  possible  that  would  not  rob  it  of  that 
finish  of  form  which  was  a  capital  point  of  its  effectiveness. 
The  style  was  classic  and  polished  to  the  last  degree.  There 
was  nothing  positive  in  the  sermon,  from  first  to  last,  that 
could  offend  any  taste,  religious,  literary,  or  philosophic.  It 
was  all  of  an  Attic  purity.  Except  the  word  Catholicism, 
used  instead  of  religion,  here  and  there,  there  was  abso- 
lutely not  a  suggestion  which  was  not  truly  catholic  —  that 
is,  fit  for  the  adoption  of  any  Christian.  No  hint  of  the 
Virgin,  as  is  common.  Pure,  supreme,  exclusive  ascription 
to  Christ  —  in  the  very  words  of  Paul,  and  in  everything  but 
Paul's  inimitable  spirit.  He  closed  by  declaiming  a  rhetorical 
invocation  of  Christ  —  with  open  eyes,  and  oratoric  gesture. 
It  was  the  absolute  zero  in  the  temperature  of  his  discourse. 


PERE  FELIX  307 

I  have  perhaps  been  too  severe  as  well  as  too  long.  I 
have  hardly  been  too  laudatory.  I  might  mention  that  it 
seemed  curious  to  see  the  preacher  sit  down,  two  or  three 
times,  as  if  it  was  a  regular  convention  of  the  pulpit  —  it  is, 
I  believe  —  when  the  auditory,  by  unanimous  consent,  pro- 
ceeded to  coughing,  and  clearing  their  throats,  and  blowing 
their  noses.     Father  Felix  took  no  text. 

So  the  art  of  pulpit  eloquence  —  such  as  existed  in  the 
French  Augustan  age,  the  time  of  Louis  XIV.,  when  Bour- 
daloue,  and  Massillon,  and  Bossuet  preached  an  almost  per- 
fectly pure  gospel,  with  a  perfectly  pure  diction  —  is  not 
extinct  in  France.  There  is  something  exquisitely  fascinat- 
ing in  what  I  can  only  call  the  accomplished  literary 
politeness  which  you  feel  to  be  present  and  dominant  in 
such  discourse.  It  is  the  wisdom  of  God,  unable  to  recog- 
nize itself,  in  the  disguise  of  the  wisdom  of  men.  The  very 
fidelity  of  the  preacher  seems  to  become  but  his  graceful 
deference  to  the  proprieties  of  the  place  and  the  theme.  How 
one,  after  the  contentment  of  the  mind  begins  to  cloy,  does 
sigh  for  a  moment  of  Paul !  Even  now  we  are  all  of  us 
holding  our  breath  to  see  whether  Paul  has  not  perhaps 
returned,  for  at  least  a  moment,  in  the  person  of  Father 
Hyacinthe. 


XII 
WILLIAM  MACKERGO  TAYLOR 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

I  CANNOT  but  be  aware  that  in  certain  instances,  of  which 
the  present  instance  is  one,  the  fame  of  the  subjects  of  these 
criticisms  has  since  their  death  suffered  some  diminution 
of  brilHancy.  The  effort,  however,  of  the  critic  was  uni- 
formly to  carry  up  his  judgments  of  the  particular  man  to 
permanent  homiletic  principles  applicable  to  his  case.  If 
he  succeeded  in  doing  this,  the  value  of  his  critical  work 
will  be  to  a  great  degree  independent  of  the  present  reputation 
of  the  preacher  criticised.  Dr.  W.  M.  Taylor's  audience, 
while  he  lived,  was  largely  made  up  of  persons  who  never 
came  within  the  sound  of  his  voice;  for  he  published  his 
discourses  in  books  which  at  once  found  a  wide  circulation, 
and  which  now  no  doubt  are  in  the  hands  of  numerous 
readers.  Dr.  Taylor  accordingly  presents  a  subject  of 
study  promising  still  to  be  profitable. 


3TI 


WILLIAM  MACKERGO  TAYLOR 

Dr.  Taylor's  personal  presence  corresponds  with  his  char- 
acter. It  is  impressive,  distinguished.  There  is  a  clear  note 
of  dignity  in  it  —  dignity  emphasized  almost  to  the  point  of 
challenge,  of  self-assertion.  You  feel  at  once,  "  Here  is  a 
man  as  solid  as  is  his  bodily  substance ; "  and  his  bodily 
substance  gives  to  the  imagination  a  brave  sense  of  v^^eighty 
reaction. 

Dr.  Taylor's  native  Scotch  quality  is  contrasted  by  his 
present  American  environment  —  contrasted,  rather  than 
subjugated,  by  it.  His  national  and  his  individual  identity 
is  something  far  too  sturdy,  too  resistant,  to  be  effaced  and 
conformed  by  the  external  influences  amid  which  it  happens 
to  be  placed.  You  are  stimulated  by  the  encounter  of  this 
frank,  unapologetic,  unyielding,  personal  difference. 

Something  of  the  same  contrast  with  the  type  prevailing 
around  him  extends  to  Dr.  Taylor's  sermons,  both  their 
matter  and  their  manner.  These  are  singularly  independent 
of  influence  from  the  moral  and  intellectual  atmosphere  in 
which  they  are  produced.  Dr.  John  Hall  adjusts  himself 
somewhat  —  consciously  as  well  as  unconsciously  perhaps 
—  to  his  exchanged  conditions  in  this  new  world ;  Dr.  Tay- 
lor, hardly  at  all.  Nay,  it  might  rather  seem  that  Dr.  Taylor 
braces  himself  not  to  yield.  The  penetrative  influence  of 
Mr.  Beecher  has  not  penetrated  Dr.  Taylor  to  affect  even 
so  much  as  his  form  of  discourse.  He  preaches  quite  as  if 
he  lived  in  a  world  on  which  Mr.  Beecher's  new  day  had 
never  dawned. 

It  is  an  incontrovertible  testimony  to  Dr.  Taylor's  power, 
that,  being  such  as  I  have  sought  thus  to  describe  him,  he 
should  still  have  won  so  promptly,  and  have  held  so  long, 
the  conspicuous  place  which  is  his  in  American  public  esti- 

312 , 


WILLIAM  MACKERGO  TAYLOR  313 

mation  and  influence.  His  successful  career  in  this  country 
is  certainly  something  of  a  problem  and  a  paradox.  Not 
only  does  he,  like  Dr.  Hall,  occupy  a  famous  metropolitan 
pulpit  —  made  more  famous  by  the  occupancy  —  but  he  is, 
unlike  Dr.  Hall,  a  prolific  and  popular  author  of  books.  The 
secret  of  a  success  like  Dr.  Taylor's  is  often,  to  the  curious 
critic,  as  elusive  as,  to  the  prying  biologist,  is  the  long- 
sought,  still-to-seek,  secret  of  life.  Let  us  not  in  the  present 
case  prosecute  the  perhaps  profitless  quest  of  a  solution  of 
the  problem,  but  rather  content  ourselves  with  studying  Dr. 
Taylor  simply  to  take  honest  account  —  which  cannot  fail 
to  be  instructive  —  both  of  the  good  and  of  the  less  good  in 
his  work. 

The  first  thing  to  strike  the  observant  hearer  or  reader 
of  Dr.  Taylor's  sermons,  is  the  firm  substance  of  thought 
and  doctrine  that  underlies  them.  Dr.  Taylor  always  has 
something  to  say.  Perhaps  it  would  be  more  curiously 
true  to  the  fact,  if  we  changed  one  word  and  put  it,  "  Dr. 
Taylor  always  finds  something  to  say."  For  his  fulness  is 
less  that  of  the  thinking,  than  that  of  the  acquiring,  mind. 
He  purveys  from  many  quarters,  but  at  least  he  always 
spreads  a  full  board.  And  always  the  fare  is  substantial. 
He  offers  you  not  the  whipped  cream  and  the  syllabub,  but 
the  solid  roast-beef,  of  discourse.  If  you  do  not  thrive  at 
his  table,  it  will  be  for  some  other  cause  than  deficiency  of 
nourishing  food  set  before  you.  Perhaps  your  appetite  is 
not  sufficiently  tempted,  or  perhaps  your  digestion  is  over- 
taxed; but  certainly  you  cannot  accuse  either  the  quantity 
or  the  quality  of  the  provision  purveyed. 

Indeed,  there  is  here,  as  happens  so  often,  a  vice  of  a 
virtue.  Dr.  Taylor's  substantialness  is  excessive.  It  be- 
comes heavy  as  well  as  weighty.  You  ask  yourself.  Might 
not  Dr.  Taylor  carry  all  the  weight  he  does,  and  carry  it 
lightly?  His  weight  of  thought,  not  greater  than  was  Mr. 
Beecher's,  is,  ah,  how  much  less  buoyantly  borne !  The 
fault  lies  largely  in  Dr.  Taylor's  style.  But  then  what  is 
style?    Is  it  not  the  man?    Still,  I  cannot  but  think  that 


314  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

had  Dr.  Taylor  practiced  improvisation  in  speech  far  more 
than  he  has,  his  style  might,  without  loss  to  its  freightage 
of  thought,  have  become  far  lighter,  freer,  less  encumbered 
than  it  is,  in  its  movement.  Its  movement  is  throughout  that 
of  written  discourse.  The  sentences  are  long.  Not  seldom 
they  are  labored  and  involved.  They  are  sometimes  ob- 
scure, or  ambiguous.  The  following  sentence  from  a  sermon 
on  "  The  Prudent  Steward,"  in  his  volume  on  the  Parables, 
will  serve  as  sufficient  illustration: 

"When  such  a  biblical  student  as  Dean  Plumptre  has  spent 
much  learned  ingenuity  in  seeking  to  establish  that  the  steward 
represents  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  in  their  teachings  and  minis- 
terial functions,  who  had  been  intrusted  by  God,  here  represented 
by  the  rich  man,  with  great  privileges,  to  which  they  had  been 
unfaithful,  and  ends  by  saying  that  they  were  commended  by  the 
Lord,  who,  in  the  outer  frame-work  of  the  parable,  is  one  of  the 
children  of  this  world,  we  see  into  what  absurdity  we  must  be 
landed  if  we  follow  this  principle  of  exposition." 

We  know  from  Dr.  Taylor's  own  mouth  that  his  prefer- 
ence and  habit  have  been  to  write  out,  conscientiously, 
everything  that  he  publicly  says.  His  reasons  for  doing  so 
are  sound,  are  convincing.  But  his  practice  has  not  secured 
all  the  good  results  at  which  with  wisdom  he  aimed.  What 
he  says  is  not  always  as  maturely  considered  as  he  honestly 
and  earnestly  meant  that  it  should  be.  He,  perhaps,  has 
depended  too  much  on  his  method.  The  pen,  no  doubt,  goes 
some  way,  but  it  is  far  from  going  all  the  way,  toward 
securing  ultimate  ripeness  of  thought.  It  may  seem  some- 
thing strange  to  say  of  discourse  so  laboriously  written  as 
is  Dr.  Taylor's,  but  it  is  true,  nevertheless,  that  a  character 
of  undigestedness,  of  imperfect  elaboration,  is  impressed  on 
much  that  this  distinguished  preacher  has  printed.  His  pen 
did  not  make  him  think  enough.  I  have  heard  that  Lord 
Brougham  trained  himself  for  making  a  speech  in  Parlia- 
ment by  writing  out  what  he  wished  to  say  and  flinging  his 
result,  sheet  after  sheet,  as  he  produced  it,  behind  him  into 


WILLIAM  MACKERGO  TAYLOR 


315 


the  open  fire  in  front  of  which  he  sat  to  do  his  work.  This 
process,  so  it  is  said,  in  preparation  for  the  single  occasion, 
he  repeated  seven  times,  and  then  went  to  the  House  of 
Commons  and  poured  out  his  speech,  as  the  matter  came 
to  him  and  the  winged  words.  No  doubt  such  preparation 
helped  immeasurably  the  freedom,  the  impetuosity,  of  that 
overwhelming  extemporization  for  which  Lord  Brougham 
was  famous.  But  then,  on  the  other  hand,  the  final  extem- 
porization reacted  to  help  the  orator  write  spoken  style. 
Similar  practice  would  have  tended  to  give  Dr.  Taylor  the 
command  of  a  style  better  fitted  than  his  is  for  the  effects 
proper  to  public  speaking.  The  destination  in  a  preacher's 
mind  to  eventual  publication  in  volume,  for  a  sermon  pre- 
pared by  him  to  be  given  first  orally  to  his  own  congregation, 
may  insensibly  influence  the  style  in  which  that  preacher 
writes.  This  ought  not  to  be.  The  preacher's  prime  duty 
is  uniformly  to  those  who  will  hear  him.  If  he  allows  him- 
self to  indulge  the  ulterior  aim  of  making  a  book  of  his 
sermons,  he  is  in  danger  of  unconsciously  suiting  his  ser- 
mons to  his  book  instead  of  to  his  people.  Hearers  gen- 
erally will  not  relish  the  idea  of  having  a  book  preached 
to  them  in  weekly  instalments.  They  will,  instinctively, 
suspect  that  the  first  use  of  the  sermon  is,  with  the  preacher, 
subordinate  to  the  second.  But  at  any  rate,  the  immediate, 
the  congregated,  audience  that  will  listen  to  him  from  the 
pulpit,  not  the  remote,  the  scattered,  audience  that  may  listen 
to  him  from  the  press,  is  the  true  inspiration  for'  the 
preacher.  To  write  for  the  ear  rather  than  for  the  eye,  is, 
for  the  public  speaker,  a  maxim  of  gold.  Dr.  Taylor  writes 
too  much  as  if  he  wrote  for  the  eye;  but,  even  for  the  eye, 
the  result  would  be  better,  should  he  task  himself  to  write 
more  as  if  for  the  ear.  This  chiefly  as  concerns  the  matter 
of  expression ;  though  also  as  concerns  the  matter  of  thought 
the  same  would  be  true.  Let  me  illustrate.  "  The  concep- 
tion and  quality  of  life  as  affected  by  the  discipline  of  any 
form  of  trial,"  is  the  statement  by  Dr.  Taylor  of  a  topic  for 
discourse.    This  statement  is  too  vague  even  for  the  eye; 


3i6  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

it  is  absolutely  elusive  for  the  ear.  And  if  anything  in  a 
discourse  ought  to  be  clear,  it  is  certainly  the  statement  of 
the  topic.  What  Dr.  Taylor  actually  treats  in  the  sermon 
of  which  the  foregoing  vague  language  states  the  topic,  is 
the  influence  of  affliction  to  change  one's  conception,  and  so 
one's  conduct,  of  hfe.  The  topic  thus  intelligibly  stated  is 
perhaps  not  a  topic  thoroughly  well  thought  out.  But  the 
v^rord  "  so "  at  least  implies  a  connection  of  thought,  and  a 
causal  connection,  between  the  idea  of  changed  judgment 
as  to  life  and  the  idea  of  changed  behavior.  Such  connection 
is  absent  in  Dr.  Taylor's  analysis.  The  two  ideas,  that  of 
altered  ideal  and  that  of  altered  life,  are  simply  put  me- 
chanically in  mutual  juxtaposition,  no  relation  of  any  sort 
being  suggested  as  existing  between  them.  Here  is  Dr. 
Taylor's  sentence  of  transition  from  the  first  to  the  second 
head  of  discourse :  "  But  passing  now  to  the  quality  of  life, 
we  may  see  how  that,  also,  is  affected  by  such  experience 
of  affliction."  It  is  even  strange  that  "  also  "  should  indi- 
cate the  only  link  in  thought  that  occurred  to  the  preacher 
between  revolution  in  conviction  and  revolution  in  life. 

But,  following  the  analysis  under  which  Dr.  Taylor  treats 
the  second  head  of  his  topic,  you  find  that  it  is  not  wholly 
"  quality  of  life,"  but  partly  something  else,  namely,  quality 
of  "  character,"  that  he  means.  The  "  element  of  strength  " 
is  the  first  "  feature  of  that  which  we  call  character,"  said 
by  the  preacher  to  be  "  evoked  or  developed  by  trial " ;  the 
second  is  "unselfishness";  the  third  is  "sympathy";  the 
fourth  is  "usefulness."  Obviously  this  whole  analysis  is 
hasty  and  crude.  "  Sympathy  "  is  not  different  enough  from 
"  unselfishness  "  to  be  separately  reckoned ;  and  "  usefulness  " 
is  fairly  inclusive  of  all  the  "  elements  "  named.  The  ser- 
mon contains  sound  and  wholesome  instruction,  but  the 
organific  principle  is  notably  absent  in  it.  Such,  as  I  shall 
presently  further  illustrate,  seems  to  me  prevailingly  the 
character  of  Dr.  Taylor's  discourses.  They  are  mechanical 
aggregations  of  thought,  not  living  organisms.  The  co- 
hesion of  part  with  part  is  often  very  precarious. 


WILLIAM  MACKERGO  TAYLOR  317 

iWeight  of  matter,  heaviness  of  style,  imperfect  analysis, 
T  have  thus  far  discovered  in  this  eminent  preacher's  work. 
Orthodox,  staunch,  uncompromising  orthodoxy,  is  another 
deeply-stamped  characteristic  of  Dr.  Taylor's  preaching. 
He  is  contentedly,  undisturbedly,  old-fashioned  in  his  reli- 
gious beliefs.  The  "  new  theology "  speculations  find  no 
more  favor  with  Dr.  Taylor  than  they  do  with  Dr.  Hall  or 
with  Mr.  Spurgeon. 

But  i1>  is  orthodoxy  rather  than  scripturalness  that  char- 
acterizes Dr.  Taylor.  I  do  not  mean  that  he  is  unscriptural; 
but  he  is  not  scriptural,  warp  and  woof,  as  Mr.  Spurgeon  is, 
or  as  Dr.  Hall  is.  Without  intending  to  do  so,  probably 
without  being  aware  of  doing  so,  he  rationalizes  more  than 
do  those  brethren  of  his  —  always,  of  course,  within  the 
strict  bounds  of  orthodoxy.  For  example.  Dr.  Taylor  has, 
in  the  volume  entitled  "  Contrary  Winds  and  Other  Ser- 
mons," one  of  his  most  careful  discourses  on  "  The  Vision 
of  Elijah."  The  text  is :  "  And  after  the  fire  a  still  small 
voice."  The  preacher  deduces  from  the  text,  as  "  the  one 
lesson  good  for  all  the  ages,"  this  teaching: 

"  That  *  the  kingdom  of  God  cometh  not  with  observation,'  and 
that  the  salvation  of  the  world  is  to  be  wrought  out  by  him  of 
whom  it  could  be  said :  '  He  shall  not  cry,  nor  lift  up,  nor  cause 
his  voice  to  be  heard  in  the  streets.' " 

What  power  of  illation  was  in  exercise,  to  draw  just  that, 
and  all  that,  from  the  words :  "  And  after  the  fire  a  still 
small  voice !  "  The  lesson,  considered  in  itself,  is,  of  course, 
with  proper  qualification,  true ;  but  assuredly  Dr.  Taylor  did 
not  find  it  in  his  text  until  he  had  first  put  it  there.  And 
putting  it  there  is,  if  not  exactly  rationalism,  at  least  unwar- 
ranted freedom  in  the  handling  of  Scripture.  In  order  to 
reach  the  foregoing  sense  of  his  text.  Dr.  Taylor  had  gone  to 
the  length  of  affirming  it  to  have  been  God's  purpose  in  the 
theophany  to  Elijah,  "  to  teach  his  servant  that  ...  it 
was  not  by  such  coups  d'etat  as  that  on  Carmel  that  the  work 
of  regenerating  Israel  was  to  be  accomplished,  but  by  the 


3i8  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

quiet  influence  of  love."  I  submit  that  an  interpretation  like 
that,  so  stated,  is  overbold.  At  least,  it  ought  to  be  put  for- 
ward less  positively.  It  ought  to  bear  distinctly  the  mark  of 
being  a  human  guess,  and  not  a  thing  scripturally  revealed. 
And  then  there  seems  to  be  —  perhaps  such  was  not  the 
preacher's  intention,  but  there  seems  to  be  —  blame  implied 
against  Elijah  for  his  conduct  of  his  prophetic  office. 
"  There  had  been  much  about  him,"  Dr.  Taylor  says,  "  of 
the  austere  and  denunciatory."  Too  much  Dr.  Taylor  does 
not  explicitly  say,  but  implicitly  he  says  it,  and  says  it  in- 
sistently. With  what  warrant  of  Scripture?  And  with 
what  warrant  of  Scripture  is  it  that,  again.  Dr.  Taylor  tells 
us  unqualifiedly  how  Elijah  "  believed  "  himself  to  have  "  in- 
augurated "  a  great  reform,  how  he  "  supposed  that  God 
would  carry  it  to  immediate  success,"  how  he  "  expected 
that  from  the  moment  of  his  Carmel  victory  everything 
would  go  right?"  Such  handling  of  Scripture  is  not  suffi- 
ciently cautious.  Things  like  the  foregoing,  if  they  are  to 
be  said  at  all,  should  be  said  with  some  qualifying  term  or 
clause  to  mark  them  clearly  as  rationalizings  of  the  indi- 
vidual preacher,  and  not  authoritative  statements  of  un- 
doubted fact  revealed.  Of  the  same  over-free  character  is 
the  contrast  instituted  by  Dr.  Taylor,  to  Elijah's  disad- 
vantage, between  Elijah  as  stern  and  Elisha  as  tender  in 
spirit  and  conduct.  Was  it  not,  in  this  very  "  vision "  of 
the  prophet,  told  Elijah  by  the  Lord  concerning  Elisha: 
"  Him  that  escapeth  from  the  sword  of  Hazael  shall  Jehu 
slay;  and  him  that  escapeth  from  the  sword  of  Jehu  shall 
Elisha  slay  ? "  Orthodoxy  may  permit  such  rationalisms 
as  those  which  I  have  instanced,  but  true  scripturalness 
forbids  them.  Dr.  Taylor,  I  am  persuaded,  errs  in  this  thing 
unconsciously;  for  he  means  to  be  profoundly  reverent;  but 
no  less  he  errs.  The  error  is  one  of  such  moment  that  I 
respectfully  take  leave  thus  to  point  it  out  in  Dr.  Taylor's 
distinguished   example. 

Dr.  Taylor  proceeds  to  divide  "  the  one  lesson "  of  his 
text,  somewhat  negligently,  as  follows: 


WILLIAM  MACK  ERGO  TAYLOR  319 

I.  "  It  reminds  us  that  in  the  order  of  God's  government 
the  quietest  influence  is  often  the  most  powerful."  (This 
idea  is  expanded  in  a  series  of  illustrations  that  hardly  illus- 
trate.) II.  "  That  the  force  of  love  is  always  greater  than 
that  of  sternness."  III.  "  That  the  apparently  insignificant 
is  oftentimes  really  the  most  important."  These  three 
statements  of  division  are  not  by  Dr.  Taylor  brought  to- 
gether as  I  have  brought  them  together,  but  they  are  by 
him  distinguished,  as  I  have  distinguished  them,  with  Ro- 
man numerals.  It  is  fair  to  add  that  in  making  the  last  two 
divisions  Dr.  Taylor  felt  compelled  to  say:  "The  lesson 
which  we  have  deduced  from  our  text,  taken  with  its  sur- 
roundings." But  the  clause  which  I  italicize  serves  rather 
to  give  notice  of  the  preacher's  sense  of  difficulty  than  to 
justify  the  violence  done  by  him  to  his  text  in  making  his 
text  yield  such  instruction.  The  violence,  however,  sup- 
posed out  of  present  question,  and  out  of  present  question 
supposed  also  the  soundness  of  the  instruction  deduced, 
the  faultiness  of  the  analysis,  logically  considered,  is  surely, 
without  comment,  obvious  enough  from  the  mere  juxta- 
position foregoing  of  the  heads  of  discourse.  Like  loose- 
ness of  analysis,  as  I  have  said,  characterizes  the  method 
observed  generally  in  Dr.  Taylor's  preaching.  An  ordinary 
sermon  of  his  is  likely  to  be  little  else  than  a  series,  more 
or  less  coherent,  of  moral  and  religious  observations  con- 
nected with  his  text. 

While  orthodox,  in  a  certain  distinction  from  scriptural, 
Dr.  Taylor  is  also  evangelical,  in  a  certain  distinction  from 
"  evangelistic."  The  evangelistic  element  is  far  from  absent 
in  his  preaching,  but  it  is  not  present  with  warmth  and 
frequency  of  demonstration,  as  in  the  preaching  of  Dr.  Tal- 
mage,  for  example.  Dr.  Taylor  notwithstanding,  in  his  own 
individual  manner,  is  nobly  true  to  the  true  gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ.  Indeed,  he  stands  strongly  erect,  a  conspicuous 
pillar  and  ground  of  the  truth. 

That  carelessness  in  literary  points  which  seems  natural, 
but   which   surely   is  not   admirable,   in   the  pulpit,   is   also 


320 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


exemplified  by  Dr.   Taylor.    I   collect  a  few  instances  of 
inaccurate  quotation.     Byron's: 

"  My  days  are  in  the  yellow  leaf; 
The  flowers  and  fruits  of  love  are  gone," 

is  given  by  Dr.  Taylor  thus : 

"  My  days  are  in  the  yellow  leaf; 
The  flower,  the  fruit  of  life  are  gone." 

Shakespeare's : 

"  There  is  some  soul  of  goodness  in  things  evil 
Would  men  observingly  distil  it  out," 

is  given  as  prose: 

"There  is  a  soul  of  goodness  in  things  evil  could  we  observ- 
ingly distil  it  out." 

Longfellow,  singing : 

"Thou  shalt  know  ere  long  — 
Know  how  sublime  a  thing  it  is 
To  suffer  and  be  strong." 

is  made  to 

"  Bid  his  readers  '  learn  to  suffer  and  be  strong.' " 

Shakespeare's : 

"  They  pass  by  me  as  the  idle  wind, 
Which  I  respect  not ;  " 

appears : 

"  The  whistling  of  the  idle  wind  that  he  regarded  not." 

Cowper's : 

"Tw  pitiful 

"  To  court  a  grin  when  you  should  woo  a  soul," 

appears ; 
"  It  is  pitiful  to  court  a  grin  when  we  should  woo  a  soul.** 


WILLIAM  MACKERGO  TAYLOR  321 

Shakespeare's : 

" One  touch  of  nature  makes  the  whole  world  kin" 
becomes : 
"  One  touch  of  nature  makes  the  whole  world  kin," 

These  things  are  comparatively  unimportant,  indeed;  but 
quotations,  self-evidently,  if  worth  making  at  all,  are  worth 
making  with  accuracy.  And  there  is  a  point  of  justice  and 
of  conscientious  habit  involved. 

"Inaugurated"  (in  the  false  sense  of  "beginning") 
"crystallization  of  the  dewdrops,"  "marbly"  ("cold,  stern, 
marbly  things"),  "  pretensiveness "  for  "pretentiousness," 
"  willinghood "  for  "  willingness,"  are  faults  of  diction 
noted.  Minor  things  again;  but  preachers,  whether  they 
will  or  no,  are  teachers  in  such  points  to  their  congrega- 
tions.    They  have  a  responsibility  for  teaching  right. 

Dr.  Taylor's  manner  of  writing  leads  him  now  and  again 
into  adding  to  his  periods  make-weight  clauses,  which  he 
does  not  take  care  enough  to  justify  by  freighting  them 
with  added  thought.  For  example,  of  a  gymnast's  feat,  he 
says: 

"  For  all  so  simple  as  it  appears  to  be  ["  For  all  it  appears  to  be 
so  simple?"]  he  is  straining  every  muscle  to  its  utmost,  and  the 
whole  man  is  putting  forth  his  energy." 

Another  example,  not  quite  parallel,  is  the  following  un- 
considered and  overstated  generalization: 

"When  a  public  speaker  descends  from  abstract  reasoning  to 
concrete  illustration,  and  clinches  his  argument  by  a  pat  and 
parallel  anecdote,  an  immediate  hush  of  eager  interest  stills  his 
audience  into  a  breathless  silence,  which  is  broken  only  at  the 
close  by  the  outburst  of  irrepressible  applause." 

Indulgence   in  such  writing,   if  it  does  not  spring  from 

imperfect  genuineness  in  the  writer  as  its  source,  at  least 

tends  to  ungenuineness.     It  is  to  be  jealously  avoided, 
u 


'322 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


It  belongs  to  the  same  fault  of  deficient  elaboration  in 
thought,  that  Dr.  Taylor  should  employ  the  device  of  intro- 
ducing into  his  discourse  scraps  of  quotation  from  authors 
who  have  treated  his  topic  before  him.  The  preacher's 
duty  is  to  take  up  and  assimilate  what  he  reads  and  then 
reproduce  it  afresh,  if  he  reproduces  it  —  always  and  only, 
with  such  individual  additions,  subtractions,  modifications, 
adaptations,  as  make  it  fairly  his  own.  No  writer,  and  no 
speaker,  should  ever  quote  to  save  himself  labor.  That  Dr. 
Taylor  consciously  does  this,  I  am  far  from  wishing  to 
imply.  But  he  embroiders  sometimes  upon  the  surface  of 
his  sermon  —  in  quotation,  it  may  even  be  (and  that  is  a 
peculiarly  undesirable  source  of  such  supply),  from  a  fellow 
preacher's  sermon  —  borrowed  passages,  where  something 
produced  by  himself  would  have  been  equally  good,  and 
therefore  much  better,  as  entered  more  homogeneously  into 
the  warp  and  woof  of  his  own  proper  discourse.  The  ser- 
mon on  "  The  Tares  and  the  Drag-Net "  has  some  half- 
dozen  bits  of  such  quotation.  This  sermon  exemplifies  a 
practice  not  to  be  commended  in  the  pulpit  —  and  one,  by 
the  way,  not,  I  believe,  very  frequent  with  Dr.  Taylor  — 
that  of  discussing  and  controverting  at  length  the  views  of 
a  commentator  thought  by  the  preacher  to  have  made  a  mis- 
taken interpretation. 

The  light  touch  is  not  a  gift  of  Dr.  Taylor's.  He  is  apt 
to  use  the  heavy  hand,  without  much  discrimination  of  pro- 
portionate needs.  For  instance,  speaking  hypothetically,  and 
generally,  of  the  value  of  common  sense  to  the  preacher,  he 
says : 

"The  breach  of  it  [breach  of  common  sense?]  may  not  be  pre- 
cisely an  immorality,  but  it  is  an  indecorum,  the  commission  of 
which  stamps  him  ['  a  man ']  as  an  ass." 

Dr.  Taylor's  elocution  exactly  harmonizes  with  his  style 
of  composition.  All  is  effected  with  weight  of  stroke. 
There    is    almost    no    relief   of   tone    softened    toward    the 


WILLIAM  MACKERGO  TAYLOR  323 

pathetic  or  lightened  toward  the  lively.     But  there  is  power 
felt,  power  made  up  of  mass  and  momentum. 

Dr.  Taylor's  faults  and  infelicities  admit  of  being  exempli- 
fied; but  his  merits  are  widely  and  inseparably  interwoven 
with  the  texture  of  what  he  has  written  throughout  the  whole 
extent  of  that.  His  excellence  rather  maintains  a  uniform 
level  than  makes  itself  eminent  here  and  there  in  striking 
and  brilliant  quotable  passages  of  discourse.  His  fruitful 
industry,  his  sound  discretion,  his  firm-set  orthodoxy,  his 
practical  Christian  earnestness,  his  evangelical  spirit,  his 
spotless  character,  are  an  example  and  an  inspiration  to 
ministers  for  which  we  all  have  reason  to  be  sincerely 
thankful.  If  I  have  spoken  frankly  of  his  faults,  it  is  not 
because  I  do  not  joyfully  recognize  his  shining  virtues ;  but 
because  his  strength  renders  him  abundantly  well  able  to 
bear  respectful  strict  measure  in  judgment,  and,  most  of  all, 
because  his  example  among  his  fellow-ministers  teaches  so 
powerfully  as  to  make  it  of  great  importance  that  it  should, 
if  possible,  be  prevented  from  teaching  in  any  serious  par- 
ticular amiss. 


XIII 
JOHN  HALL 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

The  pregnant  Greek  saying,  "  Count  no  man  happy  till 
he  dies,"  has  its  pathetic  application  in  the  case  of  the 
subject  of  the  following  criticism.  Dr.  Hall,  after  a  long 
career  of  prosperity  seldom  if  ever  surpassed,  in  the  pastor- 
ship of  a  great  church  whose  pulpit  he  adorned  and  rendered 
illustrious,  fell  at  last  under  disfavor  with  such  a  number 
or  such  a  weight  of  his  moneyed  membership,  that  in  sequel 
of  a  manful  struggle  on  his  part  stimulated  and  cheered 
by  the  sympathy  and  support  of  many  loyal  and  loving 
hearts,  constituting,  I  believe,  a  majority  of  the  congregation, 
to  hold  his  place  and  continue  his  usefulness  in  it,  he,  broken 
in  health,  withdrew  from  his  pulpit,  and  went  to  his  native 
Ireland  where  he  died.  It  is  not  necessary  to  enter  into 
the  details  of  the  unhappy  difference  that  arose  between  Dr. 
Hall  and  that  portion  of  his  congregation  who  opposed  him, 
further  than  simply  to  say  that  it  in  no  wise  involved  the 
personal  character  of  the  pastor. 

Dr.  Hall  was  by  eminence  a  pastorly  spirit.  Naturally, 
perhaps,  but  certainly  by  habit,  he  concerned  himself  on 
behalf  of  others,  as  one  who  felt  responsible  for  exerting  a 
good  influence  whenever  and  wherever  he  could.  I  remember 
meeting  him  once  quite  casually  in  one  of  the  great  book- 
stores of  New  York  City,  when,  happening  to  have  heard 
of  the  present  writer's  being  at  the  moment  engaged  in  the 
preparation  of  certain  books  treating  of  Greek  and  Roman 
literature,  and  incidentally  of  Greek  and  Roman  life,  he 
expressed  the  hope  that  I  would  take  occasion  to  sound  in 
them  a  note  of  warning  about  the  corruption  that  was  stealing 

327 


328  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

into  American  society  through  wealth  and  luxury,  comparable 
to  that  which  honey-combed  the  old  Roman  world  and 
wrought  its  overthrow.  He  mentioned  symptoms  of  this  that 
had  come  to  his  knowledge  exhibited  in  New  York  City. 


JOHN  HALL 

"John  Hall!"  Fix  your  eye  on  the  name.  How  four- 
square it  looks !  Speak  it.  How  solid  it  sounds !  Speak 
it  again.  What  weight  it  carries !  Once  more.  How 
evenly  balanced  it  is !  Consider  it.  What  freedom  from 
surplusage  !     What   honest  scorn  of  distinction  ! 

John  Hall's  name  is  a  symbol  of  the  man.  One  does  not 
see  how  the  accord  could  be  better.  Cubicity,  soundness, 
weight,  equipoise,  purity,  simplicity,  make  up  a  mental  and 
moral  character  in  which  you  can  freely  rejoice;  and  such 
a  character  eminently  is  Dr.  John  Hall's. 

I  have  here,  indeed,  to  speak  of  my  subject  only  as  a 
preacher;  but  the  preacher  always,  and  in  the  present  case 
emphatically,  is  the  whole  man.  Dr.  John  Hall  is  an  ex- 
ample fit  to  be,  without  exaggeration,  described  as  magnifi- 
cent, of  what  a  minister  may  become  through  sheer  personal 
character  joined  to  simple  common  sense  —  let  but  the  com- 
mon sense  in  him  have  been,  by  the  grace  of  God,  purified 
seven  times.  A  double  endowment  like  that  for  the  minister 
is  nobler,  as  it  also  is  rarer,  than  genius.  Genius,  in  truth, 
seems  something  almost  vulgar  in  the  comparison. 

It  is  only  fair  to  admit  that  in  Dr.  Hall's  case  there  have 
co-existed  two  incidental  felicities  which  are  justly  to  be 
credited  with  no  inconsiderable  share  of  his  actual  effective- 
ness as  a  minister.  In  the  first  place,  the  fine  physical 
equipment  of  the  man  has  always  with  him  been  a  great 
force  working  on  behalf  of  the  preacher.  A  stature  which 
would  be  commanding,  but  that  a  not  ungraceful  stoop  at 
the  shoulders  seems  to  make  it,  better  than  commanding, 
persuasive  —  a  wholesome  massiveness  of  person,  a  face 
that  wins  you  with  sincere  complaisance  habitually  ex- 
pressed, a  voice,  sound,  hearty,  voluminous,  flexible,   rich, 

329 


330  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

make  of  Dr.  Hall  a  speaker  such  that  he  has  already  half 
mastered  his  audience  the  very  moment  he  begins  to  speak. 
A  cultivated  national  accent  agreeably  dashes  his  speech 
with  the  flavor  of  a  difference  that  you  are  soon  ready  to 
acknowledge  is  even  distinction ;  you  look  and  you  listen, 
and  the  ear  joins  the  eye  in  being  flattered  and  gratified 
throughout  the  entire  discourse. 

The  second  incidental  advantage  enjoyed  by  Dr.  Hall  is 
his  position  as  pastor  of  a  metropolitan  church  long  trained 
to  appreciate  substantial  merit  such  as  his.  The  place  where 
this  distinguished  preacher  stands  year  after  year,  is  no 
small  element  of  his  pure  and  beneficent  power.  Without 
disparagement  of  his  own  personal  deserving,  which  is 
singular,  eminent,  it  demands  to  be  noted  that  Dr.  Hall 
entered  upon  a  great  inheritance  in  becoming  pastoral  suc- 
cessor to  James  W.  Alexander.  It  would  be  high  praise 
implied  of  its  present  pastor,  simply  to  say  that  the  great 
church  once  served  by  such  a  predecessor  maintained  its 
rank  and  its  tradition,  in  passing,  after  an  interval  of  de- 
cline, from  under  the  influence  of  the  one  to  be  under  the 
influence  of  the  other.  But  the  Fifth  Avenue  Presbyterian 
church  of  New  York  City  has  done  more  than  continue  un- 
diminished, it  has  signally  augmented,  in  power,  since  Dr. 
Hall's  accession  to  its  pastorship.  The  debt,  however,  is 
generally  reciprocal  between  the  church  and  its  pastor;  and 
it  must,  as  I  have  said,  be  accounted  a  special  felicity  in 
Dr.  Hall's  career  that  in  his  speaking  he  has  been  able  so 
long  to  be  heard  speaking  as  pastor  of  such  a  church. 

God  sovereignly  situates  his  servants  according  to  his 
pleasure;  but  mere  situation  contributing  so  much  as  it  does 
to  apparent  success  or  apparent  failure,  it  justly  tends  alike 
to  humility  for  those  who  apparently  succeed,  and  to  cheer 
for  those  who  apparently  fail,  to  consider  that  perhaps  in 
many  cases,  with  simple  exchange  of  situation,  exchange 
too  of  fortune  would  take  place. 

We  have  perhaps  sufficiently  recognized  what  may  be  set 
down  as  adventitious,  in  the  account  of  things  contributing 


JOHN  HALL  331 

to  the  result  imported  in  the  name  of  John  Hall ;  let  us  now 
try  to  find  what  is  intrinsic  and  inseparable  in  his  peculiar 
genius  and  character. 

One  detects  oneself  using  the  word  "  genius  "  after  all  to 
describe  the  gift  of  a  man  whose  chief  praise  it  has  been 
implied  to  be,  that  he  is  what  he  is,  and  that  he  does  what 
he  does,  without  genius.  And  is  it  anything  worth  distin- 
guishing from  genius,  the  gift  of  common  sense  so  pure  and 
so  plenteous  as  is  in  this  kind  the  singular  endowment  of  the 
subject  of  the  present  study?  The  diamond  is  identical  in 
analysis  with  carbon  —  the  most  precious  of  stones,  that  is 
to  say,  with  a  substance  well-nigh  the  commonest  and  the 
most  abundantly  diffused  of  all  existing  substances.  But 
the  form  of  carbon  in  the  diamond  is  finer  than  the  form 
of  carbon  in  charcoal ;  and  somewhat  like  is  the  difference 
between  common  sense  as  it  exists  in  John  Hall  and  com- 
mon sense  as  it  exists  in  the  mass  of  mankind.  John  Hall's 
endowment  is  common  sense  glorified  into  genius.  Still  it 
is  perhaps  a  moral  attribute  qualifying  the  mental  that 
chiefly  differences  this  man,  wherein  he  is  different,  among 
his  fellows. 

For  though,  no  doubt,  the  first  thing  to  strike  you  in  a 
studious  contemplation,  indulged  with  a  view  to  analysis, 
of  the  phenomenon  that  he  offers  to  view,  is  the  absolute 
supremacy  in  him  of  unmixed  common  sense,  still  you  imme- 
diately also  perceive  this  attribute  of  his  —  if  attribute  may 
be  called  that  which  is  of  the  very  sum  and  substance  of 
the  man  —  you  perceive,  I  say,  his  common  sense  to  be 
modified,  penetrated,  informed,  with  a  certain  moral  quality 
omnipresent  like  itself,  a  moral  quality  for  which  I  can  find 
no  better  name  than  —  genuineness.  A  genuine  man,  gen- 
uine through  and  through,  from  the  crown  of  his  head  to 
the  sole  of  his  foot,  bone  and  joint  and  marrow,  such  seems 
John  Hall  to  me.  He  not  only  does  not  wish  the  world  to 
take  him  for  anything  that  he  is  not,  but  he  will  not  let  the 
world  do  so  —  if  he  can  help  it.  And  should  the  world  do 
so,  in  spite  of  his  own  sincere  deprecation  and  protest,  still 


2,12  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

at  least  the  world  shall  never  prevail  to  deceive  him  about 
himself.  He  always  remains  absolutely,  admirably,  that 
which  God  made  him  to  be,  never  seeking  to  swell  himself 
out  into  something  larger  than  his  own  proper  pattern,  never 
making  the  effort  to  etherealize  himself  into  an  essence 
rarer  and  finer  than  he  is  naturally  capable  of  becoming. 
)  This  steady  poise  of  wise  self-estimation  on  Dr.  Hall's 
part  —  centred,  as  I  believe,  still  more  on  his  unalterable 
moral  genuineness  than  on  that  rare  mental  sagacity  which 
is  his,  refusing  to  be  hoodwinked  —  was  finely  illustrated 
everywhere  throughout  his  course  of  Yale  lectures  on  preach- 
ing. Take,  for  example,  these  sentences  of  introduction  oc- 
curring in  the  first  lecture: 

"  In  entering  on  this  course  of  lectures,  Gentlemen,  I  feel  bound 
to  declare  to  you  that  my  own  judgment  has  been  overruled,  and 
that  no  one  can  have  so  strong  a  conviction  of  my  inadequacy  to 
this  task  at  the  close  as  I  have  at  the  commencement.  .  .  . 
Certain  brethren,  however,  to  whose  views  I  could  not  but  attach 
weight,  assured  me  that  the  general  subject  of  pulpit  ministra- 
tions fairly  came  within  the  scope  of  the  foundation,  and  that  I 
was  not  expected  to  revolve  in  the  same  orbit  nor  to  shine  with 
the  same  brilliancy  as  my  predecessor;  that,  in  fact  —  though  they 
did  not  so  phrase  it  —  one  like  myself,  a  long  way  on  this  side  of 
the  extraordinary,  might  be  an  encouraging  teacher  and  example 
to  ordinary  men,  and,  in  detailing  how  commonplace  qualities 
could  be  turned,  by  God's  blessing  on  ordinary  industry,  to  fair 
account,  might  guide,  stimulate  and  help  students  in  theology." 

It  would  be  a  mistake  in  judgment  to  attribute  such  dep- 
recatory expressions  used  by  Dr.  Hall  to  the  commonplace 
motive  of  mere  worldly-wise  modesty  on  his  part.  They 
come  from  deeper  in  him  than  that.  They  reflect  his  per- 
fectly sincere  opinion  of  himself.  They  are  thoroughly 
genuine.  In  one  sense,  too,  they  are  not  only  genuine,  but 
just.  In  point  of  brilliancy.  Dr.  Hall  is  not  extraordinary. 
That  in  which  he  is  extraordinary  is  something  such  that 
he  could  not  know  himself  to  be  extraordinary  in  it  and 
remain  extraordinary ;  for  it  is  a  moral  quality  —  it  is  un- 


JOHN  HALL 


333 


changeable  simplicity  and  sincerity  of  soul.  But  now  I 
have  affirmed  what  no  man  speaking  of  fellow-man  has  a 
right  to  affirm.  I  qualify  my  affirmation  into  the  statement 
that  such  is  the  impression  of  himself  which  Dr.  Hall  makes 
upon  me. 

I  would  not  be  understood  to  mean  that  Dr.  Hall  has  no 
oratoric  skill  of  conciliating  an  audience  by  modesty.  Far 
from  it.  Few  speakers  practice  the  art  of  conciliation  more 
variously  and  more  adroitly  than  does  Dr.  Hall.  The  sen- 
tences omitted  by  me  in  the  foregoing  extract  are  an 
exemplification.     I  restore  them: 

"  Nor  did  I  labor  to  persuade  myself  of  my  unfitness  in  order 
to  evade  some  labor,  and  least  of  all,  in  order  to  escape  an  unde- 
sirable association.  On  the  contrary,  I  was  much  touched  by  the 
practical  catholicity  of  the  Faculty  of  this  seminary  in  seeking  out 
a  comparative  stranger,  and  one  outside  of  that  honored  band 
whose  education,  intelligence,  courage,  and  Christian  worth  have 
made  New  England  what  it  is,  and  stamped  a  New  England  im- 
press on  so  much  of  America.  But  no  eagerness  to  respond  to 
this  attractive  overture  blinded  me  to  the  truth,  that  all  I  know 
on  this  matter  of  preaching  could  be  put  into  one  lecture." 

How  simply  and  naturally  suggested,  but  how  skilfully 
adapted  to  win  the  good  will  of  the  lecturer's  hearers ! 

The  appeal  to  local  or  national  sentiment  is  an  obvious, 
often  neglected,  resource  for  the  orator,  which  Dr.  Hall, 
however,  does  not  neglect.  With  what  perfectly  irresist- 
ible insinuation  of  compliment,  the  appeal  is  unexpectedly 
made  in  the  following  sentences  (you  must  remember  that 
the  speaker  is  addressing  a  New  Haven  university  audi- 
ence) : 

"  The  young  sermon-writer  wishes  to  be  full,  and  fearing  pau- 
city of  truths  at  the  end,  crowds  in  all  he  knows  pertinent  to  the 
subject  at  the  beginning.  It  is  as  if  he  had  to  write  a  description 
of  New  Haven,  and,  distrusting  his  store  of  materials,  he  dwells 
so  long  on  the  meadows,  with  their  heaps  of  hay  on  stilts,  shrink- 
ing from  the  soil  that  bore  them,  that  he  has  not  time  for  the 


334  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

noble  spaces,  the  elms,  the  edifices,  and  the  material  for  one  of  the 
finest  university  quadrangles  in  the  world." 

It  may  be  reckoned  one  of  the  characteristic  traits  of 
Dr.  Hall's  speaking,  that  he  ingratiates  himself  with  his 
hearers  by  such  complaisances  toward  them  as  have  thus 
been  exemplified.  These  things  are  not  artifice  with  him. 
They  are  art,  perhaps;  but  if  so,  they  are  art  identical  with 
nature.  They  are  the  spontaneous  upgushing  and  outflow- 
ing of  a  spring  within  the  man  —  a  natural  spring  taught 
by  him  to  spend  itself  in  a  channel  according  to  his  choice. 
The  speaker  says  pleasant  things  because  he  thinks  pleasant 
things,  and  because  he  knows  that  he  shall  so  dispose  his 
hearers  to  receive  his  main  message  more  favorably. 

How  conscious  with  Dr.  Hall  is  the  habitual  effort  he 
makes  to  conciliate,  to  forestall  and  disarm  opposition,  to 
get  alongside  his  hearer  in  a  friendly,  mutual  confidence, 
is  well  shown  in  the  following  passage  of  advice  to  min- 
isterial students  from  his  Yale  lectures  on  preaching  (the 
title,  by  the  way,  of  the  volume  is  characteristic,  "  God's 
Word  through  Preaching  ")  : 

"  Good  preaching  should  be  persuasive.  .  .  .  Men  must  be 
not  only  reasoned  with,  but  convinced  of  your  good  will  toward 
them.  They  have  to  be  conciliated  to  unpalatable  truth.  .  .  . 
We  should  never  assume  hostility  to  us,  or  our  views,  on  the  part 
of  our  hearers.  .  .  .  Let  us  treat  them  as  learners,  keep  them 
as  much  as  possible  from  the  attitude  of  opposition,  and  carry 
them  along  without  reminding  them  needlessly  how  much  of  their 
previous  thinking  we  have  broken  down." 

To  this  Dr.  Hall  subjoins  a  footnote  full  of  his  shrewd 
knowledge  of  men.     He  says: 

"  The  principle  of  this  may  be  sometimes  acted  upon  with  ad- 
vantage in  intercourse  with  the  members  of  a  congregation. 
Almost  every  community  contains  persons  who  are  '  nothing  if 
not  critical.'  .  .  .  They  are  delighted  to  give  the  new  minis- 
ter their  '  views.'     .     .      .     Do  not  let  these  men  commit  them- 


JOHN  HALL 


335 


selves  to  their  positions.  Do  not  even  hear,  from  them,  their 
opinions.  If  you  do,  their  self-love  will  set  down  half  your  teach- 
ing to  the  effort  at  refutation." 

The  spirit  of  these  counsels  runs  everywhere  through  Dr. 
Hall's  own  eloquence.  Never  perhaps  did  a  preacher  coun- 
terwork himself  less.  With  exquisite  economy  of  effort 
he  saves  all  his  strength  to  be  expended  on  the  true  point 
of  resistance  —  on  the  will  of  his  hearers.  Nothing  is  \ 
wasted  in  the  creation  of  needless  opposition  to  be  first  \ 
additionally  overcome.  ' 

Do  I  seem  to  be  saying  nothing  distinctive  in  description 
and  analysis  of  Dr.  Hall's  oratory?  The  fact  is,  that  this 
preacher's  true  distinction  lies  in  his  freedom  from  what  is 
distinctive.  There  is  everywhere  common  sense,  and  that 
accounts  for  all.  That  insures  the  absence  of  eccentricity, 
that  insures  the  absolute  conformity  to  the  average  human 
mind.  This  perfectly  normal  character  in  Dr.  Hall  belongs 
alike  to  his  matter  and  to  his  manner  —  his  manner  con- 
sidered in  respect  both  of  composition  and  of  elocution. 
Everything  is,  on  the  whole,  admirable  to  everybody. 

As  to  style,  Dr.  Hall  is  generally  clear,  generally  correct) 
always  simple,  often  forcible.  There  is  not  much  play  of 
the  imagination,  not  much  working  of  elemental  passion. 
He  only  speaks  right  on.  He  is  well-informed,  sufficiently 
learned  even,  but  scholastic  never.  He  sees  the  essential 
point.  His  aim  is  infallibly  chosen  and  he  hits  what  he 
aims  at.  His  statement  often  is  so  straightforward  and  so 
clear  that  it  convinces  like  argument.  Occasionally  his  ex- 
pression of  a  thought  is  dense  enough  and  happy  enough 
to  have  the  effect  of  a  proverb. 

"  We  soon  cease  to  do  what  we  do  with  difficulty," 

is  an  example.     Another  example: 

"  We  [ministers]  are  not.  Gentlemen,  heathen  philosophers, 
finding  out  things ;  we  are  expositors  of  a  revelation  that  settles 
things." 


336  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

Dr.  Hall  is  urging  the  necessity  of  close  personal  contact 
with  souls  on  the  part  of  the  minister  himself: 

"  No  amount  of  organizing,  no  skill  in  creating  machinery  and 
manipulating  *  committees,'  is  a  substitute  for  this.  Who  feels 
the  potver  of  a  tear  in  the  eye  of  a  committee?" 

Demonstration  here  twinkles  into  humor.  Humor  again 
smiles  kindly  out  in  a  sally  like  the  following  —  merrily  ap- 
preciated, no  doubt,  by  the  lecturer's  immediate  audience  at 
Yale: 

"  One  hears  the  Hebrew  Bible  read  by  theological  students  with 
a  slow  deliberateness  that  is  not  all  born  of  reverence  for  the 
sacred  text." 

The  substance  of  Dr.  Hall's  preaching  is  Scripture.  His 
idea  of  his  work  is  to  give  "  God's  Word  through  preach- 
ing." To  this  idea  he  is,  not  slavishly,  but  freely  and  joy- 
ously, obedient.  His  common  sense  anchors  him  to  it,  and 
he  rides  at  rest,  never  straining  his  cable  and  never  feel- 
ing the  need  of  more  harbor-room.  He  is  open-eyed  and  in- 
telligent in  his  loyalty  to  Christ  as  absolute  Lord;  but  he 
is  old-fashioned  in  it,  and  not  ashamed.  He  does  not  care 
to  hide  his  orthodoxy  under  new  terms.  If  there  is  no- 
body else  whom  strict  orthodoxy  fits  easily  and  flexibly  like 
a  soft,  healthy,  living  skin.  Dr.  John  Hall,  at  least,  is  such  a 
man.  Hide-bound  he  is  not,  but  he  will  not  demonstrate 
that  he  is  not,  by  ostentatiously  rending  the  integument 
here  or  there.  The  integument  is  organically  a  part  of  him. 
He  no  more  needs  to  part  it  anywhere  than  he  does  to 
break  some  one  of  the  members  of  that  whole  vital  body 
which  itself  created  the  integument  for  its  own  inseparable 
sheath. 

A  very  interesting  study  it  is  to  read  Dr.  Hall's  Yale 
lectures  with  a  constant  accompanying  thought  of  the  pecul- 
iar conditions  which  environed  the  lecturer.  He  imme- 
diately followed,  or  almost  immediately,  that  great,  head- 
strong  genius,   Henry   Ward   Beecher.     Nothing  could   be 


JOHN  HALL  337 

more  admirable  than  the  manner  in  which  Dr.  Hall,  con- 
scious of  his  own  contrast  in  spirit  with  his  brilliant  prede- 
cessor, and  conscious,  too,  that  his  hearers,  many  of  them, 
were  not  only,  with  himself,  conscious  of  the  same  fact, 
but  conscious,  besides,  of  his  consciousness  of  it  —  noth- 
ing, I  say,  could  be  finer  than  the  manner  in  which  the  lec- 
turer, thus  conditioned,  maintained,  throughout,  at  once 
his  comity  toward  others  and  his  fidelity  to  the  truth  and  to 
himself.  He  conceded  everything  else,  but  not  one  hair's 
breadth  conceded  he  of  what  he  held  to  be  the  whole  coun- 
sel of  God.  None  but  an  extraordinary  man  could  have 
stood  there  so  unbendingly  without  stiffness;  as  if  the  fast- 
ness of  the  rock  itself  on  which  his  feet  were  planted  went 
upward  through  his  feet,  traversing  the  whole  length  of  his 
flexile  and  tempered  spinal  marrow.  I  know  nothing  any^ 
where  more  satisfactory  in  display  of  personal  character. 
But  it  was  better  than  that.  It  was  religious  stedfastness 
for  religious  truth. 

Dr.  Hall  has  not  committed  himself  to  print  in  many 
discourses  sealed  to  the  public  under  his  own  imprimatur  and 
authority.  He  has  not  unfrequently  been  reported  with 
more  or  less  fulness  and  exactness.  His  method  for  the 
pulpit  is  to  write  carefully  in  preparation  and  then  to 
speak  freely  without  reading  and  without  having  memorized. 
This  is  the  ideal  method  for  preaching,  but  the  fruit  is, 
naturally,  not  literature  for  the  eye,  but  only  oratory  for 
the  ear.  His  great  works  Dr.  Hall  will  have  written  on 
human  hearts  and  published  them  in  human  lives. 

I  know  of  nothing  better  from  Dr.  Hall,  to  give  an  ade- 
quate idea  of  his  unsurpassed  power  to  seize  the  true  point 
and  pith  of  a  matter  and  to  put  this  effectively  in  expres- 
sion, than  a  printed  "  open  letter  "  of  his  which  I  shall  deem 
myself  to  be  serving  my  readers  by  giving  them  the  oppor- 
tunity to  see  —  at  least  in  specimen. 

The  cultivated  editor  of  a  great  New  York  daily  had  pub- 
lished a  leading  editorial  article  under  the  form  of  "  An 
Open  Letter  to  the  Rev.  Dr.  John  Hall."  This  article  was, 
V 


338  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

in  effect,  an  adroit  and  specious  criticism,  of  the  Fifth  Ave- 
nue Presbyterian  Church  in  particular,  but,  through  that,  of 
Protestantism  in  general  as  contrasted  with  Catholicism, 
for  neglecting  the  poor  and  currying  favor  with  the  rich. 
Dr.  Hall  wrote  an  "open  letter"  in  reply,  which  the  editor 
referred  to  had  the  fairness  to  spread  out  before  his  readers 
on  his  editorial  page.  It  is  rarely  the  case  that  a  corre- 
spondent has  the  slightest  chance  against  an  editor  —  writ- 
ing in  that  editor's  own  columns  and  of  course  to  that 
editor's  own  audience.  But  Dr.  Hall  certainly  did  not  come 
off  worsted  in  the  encounter  which  this  editor  had  pro- 
voked. 

The  date  was  August,  1875  —  about  the  time  of  the  com- 
pletion of  the  present  fine  edifice  belonging  to  the  Fifth 
Avenue  Presbyterian  Church,  Dr.  Hall,  having  introduced 
his  letter  with  characteristic  shrewd  but  perfectly  genuine 
courtesy,  said: 

"  There  is  an  undertone  of  mild  censure  on  '  proprietary 
churches,'  of  which  you  regard  the  Fifth  Avenue  Presbyterian 
Church  as  a  specimen.  I  am  at  a  loss  to  see  the  grounds  of  this 
reflection.  Churches  must  belong  to  somebody.  Is  it  an  objec- 
tion to  them  that  they  are  'proprietary'?  Protestant  churches 
are  usually  built  by  the  people  and  for  the  people.  Would  it  mend 
the  matter  if  the  title  were  invested  in  me  and  I  had  complete 
control?  But  this  is  the  condition  of  things  with  the  churches 
eulogized  in  the  '  open  letter.'  The  title  rests  in  the  bishop ;  the 
people  have  no  rights  which  he  is  bound  to  respect;  their  contri- 
butions give  them  no  rights.  The  bishops  can  regulate  admission 
and  demand  an  admission  fee,  and  in  point  of  fact  sustain  their 
rights  in  the  United  States  law  courts.  Is  this  any  improvement 
on  our  plan?  " 

The  editor  had  made  a  point  of  the  great  cost  of  the  new 
church  edifice.     Dr.  Hall  said: 

"  But  the  cost  of  the  Fifth  Avenue  church  is  objectionable. 
Why?  Should  there  be  a  church  there?  Should  it  be  an  eye- 
sore?    Or  would  good  sense  and  good  taste  require  it  to  have 


JOHN  HALL 


339 


some  proportion  to  the  style  and  appearance  of  the  avenue?  Is 
it  our  fault  that  it  required  $350,000  to  buy  a  site  for  it,  or  that 
it  cost  $700,000  more  to  erect  a  building  at  once  large  enough  for 
a  church  of  over  a  thousand  members,  and  not  out  of  keeping 
with  the  avenue?  Suppose  we  had  run  up  a  lath-and-plaster 
structure  on  the  best  part  of  the  avenue,  near  the  Central  Park  — 
a  more  solid  sort  of  circus  accommodation  —  we  should  have  been 
censured  for  that  puritanical  lack  of  taste  that  disfigured  '  our 
most  splendid  avenue.'  And  as  to  cost,  surely,  it  is  relative.  A 
religious  edifice  in  any  American  town  will  cost  the  price  of  ten 
or  fifteen  ordinary  houses  in  the  place,  and  not  be  thought  ex- 
travagant. And  the  cost  of  ten  or  fifteen  houses  on  the  avenue 
has  erected  the  church  on  the  avenue. 

"  Surely  it  is  not  like  the  good  sense  of  a  high  class  newspaper 
to  single  out  Protestant  places  of  worship  for  disapproval,  when 
the  erection  of  other  handsome  and  imposing  public  buildings  is 
set  down  to  public  spirit.  Why  should  railways,  banks,  and  all 
secular  corporations  present  themselves  in  impressive  structures, 
and  the  worship  of  the  Almighty  be  deemed  unworthy  of  some 
outlay?  If,  indeed  [the  shrewd  glance  sheathed  here  at  the 
practice  of  the  editorially  belauded  Roman  Catholic  Church,  must 
not  be  lost  on  the  reader]  we  begged  the  money,  or  wrung  it 
from  the  fears  of  the  poor  and  needy,  or  were  conspicuously 
wanting  to  all  public  charities,  we  might  be  justly  censured.  But 
why  should  Protestants  be  precluded  from  erecting,  if  they  can 
afford  it,  a  handsome  structure  for  the  purposes  of  their  worship? 

"  But,  it  is  suggested,  the  poor  cannot  worship  in  it.  Where  is 
the  evidence  of  that?  The  annual  cost  you  greatly  overstate.  If 
many  rich  men  paid  large  sums  for  pews,  it  has  been,  among  other 
objects,  that  the  less  rich  should  be  able  to  worship  there  at  mod- 
erate expense.  It  is  worth  inquiring  whether  there  is  another 
public  building  in  the  city  that  can  be  visited  with  equal  comfort 
and  advantage  300  times  in  the  year  for  less  than  $8  per  annum." 

Could  purified  common  sense  be  imagined  going  farther 
than  the  preceding  goes,  in  efifective,  unanswerable,  convinc- 
ing presentation  of  a  case?  Mr.  Spurgeon  once,  as  I  remem- 
ber, having  been  attacked  personally,  I  think  by  name,  on 
the  floor  of  Parliament,  probably  in  the  upper  house,  re- 
plied   with    prodigious    effect    in    a    letter    to    the    London 


340 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


Times.  Both  John  Hall  and  C.  H.  Spurgeon  showed  in 
these  two  newspaper  letters  of  theirs  what  masters  of  po- 
litical pamphleteering,  as  well  as  of  political  haranguing, 
they  would  have  made,  had  they  given  themselves  to  the 
hustings  instead  of  to  the  pulpit. 

What  fine  indignant  sarcasm  of  repudiation  for  perhaps 
insincere  eulogy  offered,  blent  with  what  unimpeachably 
well-bred  refusal  to  insinuate  suspicion  of  motive,  is 
sheathed  in  the  following  dignified  sentence  occurring  to- 
ward the  close  of  Dr.  Hall's  "  open  letter  "  : 

"  I  trust  I  am  candid  enough  to  acknowledge  whatever  is  good 
in  my  fellow-citizens  of  any  class  or  name,  but  you  will  not  deem 
it  strange  that  I  cannot  accept  any  personal  eulogy  that  appears 
to  be  levied  off  my  brethren,  nor  by  silence  to  admit  statements  in 
an  open  letter  to  me,  founded,  I  believe,  in  misapprehension  and 
injurious  in  their  tendencies  to  great  interests." 

Who  does  not  recognize  in  such  language  as  the  fore- 
going the  unmistakable  accent,  not  to  be  counterfeited,  of 
conscious  —  justly,  admirably  conscious  —  personal  char- 
acter? Common  sense  so  keen,  so  searching,  as  Dr.  Hall's 
might  sometimes  seem  something  little  better  than  shrewd- 
ness; but  character  like  his,  accompanying  and  qualifying, 
fairly  redeems  it  to  wisdom.  One  inevitably  returns  to  the 
formula,  the  equation,  with  which  I  began.  For,  indeed, 
the  chief  lesson  of  this  eminent  pastor's  example  to  min- 
isters and  to  all  men,  has  been  summed  up  when  one  has 
said  that  he  is  the  incarnation  of  common  sense  rectified 
with  character. 


XIV 
JOHN  ALBERT  BEOADUS 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

In  a  supplementary  paper,  printed  as  a  pendant  to  the  criti- 
cism now  about  to  be  given,  will  be  found  some  illustrative 
matter,  pertaining  to  the  more  personal  aspects  in  which  the 
distinguished  subject  presented  himself  to  those  who  knew 
him  out  of  the  pulpit. 

As  to  the  one  instance,  quite  exceptional  in  character,  noted 
in  the  criticism,  of  what  seemed  to  be  remiss  attention  on 
the  preacher's  part  to  the  demands  of  just  exegesis,  I  may 
say  that  I  received  a  letter  of  acknowledgment  from  Dr. 
Broadus  to  the  effect  that  he  had  been  ready  to  admit  the  cor- 
rection suggested,  until  he  discovered  authority  on  the  other 
side  which  hung  his  decision  in  a  suspense  of  provisional 
doubt.  What  conclusion  on  the  point  he  finally  reached,  I 
never  learned;  but  during  the  subsequent  interval  of  years, 
I  have  myself  repeatedly  considered  the  question  afresh,  only 
to  be  confirmed  each  time  in  the  opinion  about  it  originally 
expressed  in  the  criticism. 

The  appended  supplementary  paper  was  written  at  editorial 
request  for  "  The  Biblical  World,"  immediately  after  Dr. 
Broadus's  lamented  death. 


343 


JOHN  ALBERT  BROADUS 

I  HAVE  named  in  my  title  a  man  with  every  natural  en- 
dowment, every  acquired  accomplishment,  except,  perhaps, 
plenitude  of  physical  power,  to  have  become,  had  he  been 
only  a  preacher,  a  preacher  hardly  second  to  any  in  the 
world. 

A  conjectural  judgment  like  the  foregoing,  it  is,  to  be 
sure,  almost  always  unwisely  bold  and  hazardous  to  put 
forth.  I  simply  record  the  impression  which,  after  some 
familiarity  acquired  with  the  man  himself,  seen  and  heard 
both  in  public  and  in  private,  and  after  no  little  conversance 
with  his  productions  in  print,  I  find  fixed  and  deepening  in 
my  mind  concerning  Dr.  Broadus. 

The  natural  course  of  treatment  for  adoption  in  the 
present  paper  obviously  would  be  to  attempt  the  justification 
of  a  claim  so  large,  so  extraordinary.  But  the  basis  of  evi- 
dence supplied,  on  which  in  making  the  attempt  I  could 
found,  is,  I  confess,  too  narrow  for  me  discreetly  to  build 
an  argument  to  such  purpose  upon  it.  Dr.  Broadus  has 
put  himself  in  print  as  a  preacher  and  speaker  in  only  one 
collective  volume  of  "  Sermons  and  Addresses,"  and  his 
record  of  practical  results  accomplished  through  labor  in  the 
pulpit  is,  tho  considerable,  yet  not  imposing.  Dr.  Broadus 
is  distinctively  a  scholar,  distinctively  a  teacher,  and  besides, 
tho  less  distinctively,  an  author.  His  preaching  work  has 
been  incidental,  rather  than  principal,  in  his  career.  He 
presents  a  conspicuous  example,  perhaps  an  example  quite 
unique,  in  the  living  generation,  of  the  man  who,  notwith- 
standing that  this  must  be  said  of  him,  yet  enjoys,  and 
justly  enjoys,  among  the  well-informed,  a  national  reputa- 
tion as  preacher. 

As  teacher  of  preachers,  Dr.  Broadus  enjoys  a  reputa- 

344 


JOHN  ALBERT  BROADUS  345 

tion  more  than  national.  For  his  treatise  entitled  "  The 
Preparation  and  Delivery  of  Sermons "  has  crossed  the 
Atlantic,  as  well  as  made  the  tour  of  this  continent,  every- 
where acknowledged  to  be  one  of  the  very  best  contribu- 
tions ever  made  to  the  literature  of  its  subject.  The  indi- 
vidual opinion  of  the  present  writer  is  that,  fairly  judged  in 
view  of  the  whole  round  of  its  comparative  merits,  the  vol- 
ume of  which  I  now  speak  is  not  only  one  of  the  best  works, 
but  by  eminence  quite  the  best  work,  of  its  kind  in  existence 
for  the  use  of  the  average  English  reader  and  student. 
There  may  be  writers  on  homiletics  who  surpass  Dr.  Broad- 
us  in  suggestive  originality  of  view,  there  may  be  those  who 
surpass  him  in  profoundness  of  formal  philosophy,  there 
may  be  those  who  surpass  him  in  elegance  of  exposition; 
but  if  I  were  asked  to  name  a  writer  on  homiletics  who, 
equaling  him  in  the  union  and  harmony  of  these  different 
traits,  moreover  equaled  him  in  alert  sagacity  of  insight, 
in  sure  sobriety  of  judgment  and  of  taste,  in  breadth  and 
comprehension  of  treatment,  in  sympathetic  and  penetrative 
tone  and  spirit  —  I  should  be  obliged  —  and  it  was  an  impor- 
tant duty  of  a  former  vocation  of  mine  to  read  somewhat 
widely  in  the  literature  of  homiletics  —  I  should  be  obliged, 
I  say,  to  confess  myself  unable  to  do  it. 

Every  characteristic  that  I  have  now  pointed  out  as 
found  with  Dr.  Broadus  in  the  teacher  of  preaching,  is  found 
also  with  him,  and  more  rather  than  less,  in  the  preacher. 
His  practice  well  comports  with  his  theory  —  comments 
and  commends  it.  To  the  thoughtful  student  of  both  the 
theory  and  the  practice  of  the  man,  it  becomes  evident  that 
in  Dr.  Broadus's  case  the  practice  preceded  the  theory.  But 
it  becomes  equally  evident  that  also  the  theory  following  re- 
acted, as  it  should  do,  conforming  the  practice.  There  has 
been  free,  intelligent,  partly  conscious  and  partly  uncon- 
scious, exchange  and  reciprocity  of  influence  flowing  help- 
fully back  and  forth  between  the  one  and  the  other;  that 
is,  between  the  theory  and  the  practice  —  but  I  ought  to 


346  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

reverse  the  order  of  words,  and  say  between  the  practice 
and  the  theory  —  of  preaching. 

One  result  is  that  Dr.  Broadus's  sermons  constitute,  as  al- 
ready suggested,  a  very  important  key  and  commentary  for 
study  in  connection  with  the  study  of  his  homiletical  treat- 
ise. Every  reader  of  the  treatise  should  read  likewise  the 
volume  of  sermons;  and,  conversely,  every  reader  of  the 
volume  of  sermons  should  read  likewise  the  homiletical 
treatise.    The  two  go  together  and  complement  each  other. 

Another  result  is  that,  apart  from  the  relation  of  text 
to  commentary,  of  principle  to  illustration,  thus  noted  as 
holding  between  the  treatise  and  the  sermons,  the  sermons 
independently  make  up  a  body  of  preaching,  alas,  too  small ! 
singularly  deserving  of  attention  from  preachers  as  studies 
in  the  art  of  genuine  pulpit  eloquence.  I  should  not  neces- 
sarily praise  Dr.  Broadus's  sermons  as  on  the  whole  among 
the  very  best  in  the  world,  were  I  to  place  them,  and  I  am  in- 
clined so  to  place  them,  among  the  very  best  that  I  know  to 
constitute  models  for  exemplification  of  what  sermons  should 
be. 

The  sermons  read  in  print  and  the  sermons  heard  from 
the  pulpit  make,  in  Dr.  Broadus's  case,  exactly  the  same 
impression  —  that  is  to  say,  exactly  the  same  quality  of  im- 
pression. The  quantity  of  impression  is  double,  more  than 
double,  when  you  hear  them. 

What,  then,  is  the  impression  which  they  make,  analyzed 
into  its  elements? 

First,  I  think,  and  paramount,  is  a  trait  which  I  must 
call  winningness.  This  trait,  this  spirit,  penetrates  and 
qualifies  everything,  both  in  the  sermon  itself  and  in  the 
delivery.  To  say  that  there  is  nothing  to  repel  would  be 
an  absurd  understatement.  There  is  all  to  attract.  You  feel 
yourself  treated  by  the  preacher  with  exquisite  respect  — 
not  with  flattery,  simply  with  respect,  but  the  respect  is  ex- 
quisite. It  is  the  respect  of  a  man  who  respects  himself  as 
he  also  respects  you,  and  whose  respect,  therefore,  without 
being  flattery,  has  all  of  the  agreeable,  with  nothing  of  the 


JOHN  ALBERT  BROADUS 


347 


disagreeable,  effect  of  flattery.  You  insensibly  respect  your- 
self more,  not  the  self  that  you  are,  but  the  self  that  you 
ought  to  be,  and  that  now  you  begin  to  feel  as  if  you  might 
be.  And  it  is  that  ideal  man  possible,  rather  than  the  far 
from  ideal  man  actual,  in  you,  that  the  preacher  himself 
treats  with  such  grave,  such  pathetic,  respect.  I  can  scarce- 
ly imagine  a  tacit  mutual  understanding  established  between 
speaker  and  hearer  more  favorable  for  the  proper  effect  of 
true  preaching  than  the  understanding  immediately  and 
permanently  established  by  Dr.  Broadus  with  his  audience, 
whether  of  the  pew  or  of  the  press,  but  especially  with  an 
audience  of  the  pew.  Every  personal  antagonism  that  might 
have  arisen  to  hinder  the  impression  of  the  truth  has  been 
unconsciously  charmed  to  sleep. 

Now,  were  it  not  that  Dr.  Broadus  has  himself  expressly 
given  us  hint  to  the  contrary,  we  might  naturally  assume 
this  peculiar  winningness  in  him  to  be  merely  a  gift,  a  felic- 
ity, his  by  nature.    The  very  wisely  watchful  observer  would 
indeed  be  likely  to  see,  now  and  again,  evidence  sufficient 
to  satisfy  him  that,  within  all  that  soft  and  silken  blandness 
of  manner,   there  was   formidable  potentiality  of   severity, 
of  sharpness,  of  sarcasm,  hidden  and  sheathed.     But,  as  I  have  / 
intimated.  Dr.  Broadus  has  himself  virtually  given  us  reason  ^ 
to  infer  that  his  winningness  is  partly  at  least  a  fruit  of  con- 
scious aim  and  effort.     This,   of  course,  not  in  any  open 
autobiographic  confidence  of  his  to  the  public.    Dr.  Broadus 
is  no  egotist,  gratuitously  to  open  himself  in  that  way.    But' 
he  lays  it  down  as  one  of  his  prime  advices  to  the  preacher, 
Gain  the  sympathy  of  your  audience. 

This  intimately  characteristic  sentiment  of  Dr.  Broadus's 
finds  strong  expression  even  in  one  of  his  sermons.  In 
his  admirably  wise  discourse  entitled  "  Some  Laws  of  Spir- 
itual Work,"  he  says: 

"  Everybody  who  can  speak  effectively  knows  that  the  power  of 
speaking  depends  very  largely  upon  the  way  it  is  heard,  upon  the 
sympathy  one  succeeds  in  gaining  from  those  he  addresses.  If  I 
were  asked  what  is  the  first  thing  in  effective  preaching,  I  should 


348  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

say  sympathy;  and  what  is  the  second  thing,  I  should  say  sym- 
pathy ;  and  what  is  the  third  thing,  I  should  say  sympathy." 


It  is  quite  fair  to  assume  that  the  author  of  this  advice  has 
consciously  and  sedulously  put  in  practice  his  own  prin- 
ciple. In  other  words,  Dr.  Broadus  has  no  doubt  studied  to 
be  winning.  And  is  it  not  a  true  encouragement  to  us  all, 
to  be  thus  through  example  assured  that  a  grace  so  much 
to  be  desired  is  in  part  at  least  the  prize  of  honest  en- 
deavor ? 

Dr.  Broadus's  native  sagacity  would  have  led  him  to  cul- 
tivate winningness  had  he  been  a  secular  orator  instead  of 
a  preacher.  And  what  a  secular  orator,  by  the  way,  this 
preacher  might  have  made !  Wendell  Phillips,  that  silver 
tongue,  was  hardly  a  greater.  These  two  might  indeed  be 
mutually  compared  for  subtle  charm  of  speech.  But  Wen- 
dell Phillips  deliberately  chose  to  be  a  stirrer-up  of  antag- 
l  onisms,  while  Dr.  Broadus,  not  less  capable  of  sarcasm,  of 
i  invective,  than  he,  and  not  less  recklessly  brave,  has  chosen, 
more  wisely,  to  be  a  charmer  for  the  evoking  of  sympathies. 
Winningness,  however,  with  Dr.  Broadus,  has  a  quality  in 
it  not  secular;  that  is,  not  worldly;  and  it  is  manifestly  in- 
spired by  a  motive  deeper  than  sagacity.  It  is  a  moral  trait 
in  him;  nay,  that  adjective  fails  to  express  it.  The  trait  in 
M  him  is  spiritual.    It  is  distinctly  and  peculiarly  Christian. 

The  second  thing,  therefore,  to  be  noted  in  Dr.  Broadus's 
oratory,  is  its  Christian  spirit.  I  do  not  now  say  that  what 
Dr.  Broadus  inculcates  is  Christian,  tho  that  would  be  emi- 
nently true.  My  meaning  is  that  the  way,  the  manner,  the 
tone,  the  spirit,  of  his  inculcation  has  peculiarly  this  char- 
acter; so  that  you  are  affected  for  good  by  how  he  teaches, 
quite  independently  of  what  he  teaches.  But,  besides  this, 
the  exquisite  agreement  between  the  what  and  the  how 
indefinitely  enchances  the  happy  effect.  I  must  illustrate 
my  point  with  example.  Dr.  Broadus  had  been  making  an 
address,  very  much  in  the  nature  of  a  sermon,  on  "  Read- 
ing the  Bible  by  Books."     At  the  close,  questions   were 


JOHN  ALBERT  BROADUS 


349 


asked  of  the  speaker,  the  occasion  being  such  as  to  allow 
this  familiarity,  and  he  having  himself  expressly  invited  it. 
The  following  question  was  one  of  those  asked: 

Q.  "  Would  you  not  advise  much  prayer  and  communion  with 
God  in  the  study  of  the  Bible,  in  order  to  a  better  understanding 
of  it?" 

A.  "  Oh,  assuredly,  I  should  advise  prayer  and  communion  with 
God.  I  ought  not  to  have  taken  that  for  granted.  I  blame  my- 
self that  I  did  not  say  that." 

Observe  the  delicate  urbanity  of  this  reply,  the  meekness 
of  wisdom  in  it.  The  speaker  might  have  said:  "Oh,  yes; 
but  that  I  thought  I  might  take  for  granted,  in  such  an  as- 
sembly as  this.  One  cannot  always  say  quite  everything 
that  admits  being  said."  But  such  a  reply,  natural  enough 
under  such  circumstances,  would  have  savored  injuriously 
of  the  element  of  self  exhibited  in  the  form  of  self-justifica- 
tion. Besides,  it  would  have  broken  sympathy  with  the 
audience,  through  apparent  retort  of  blame  on  the  asker  of 
the  question.  The  actual  reply  was  just  the  proper  efface- 
ment  of  self.  The  speaker's  taking  of  blame  to  himself, 
perfectly  sincere  indeed,  has  nevertheless,  and  quite  justifi- 
ably, the  effect  of  self-exculpation;  and  yet  it  amply  vindi- 
cates the  asker  of  the  question.  It  serves,  moreover,  to  put 
now  the  strongest  possible  emphasis  upon  the  point  which 
had  been  apparently  neglected  before.  To  crown  all,  the 
sympathy  between  speaker  and  audience  is  beneficently  and 
delightfully  heightened. 

To  apply  criticism  like  the  foregoing,  and  find  so  much  in 
so  little,  may  to  some  seem  overstrained.  For  myself,  how- 
ever, I  cannot  but  think  that  what  I  discover  in  Dr.  Broad- 
us's  reply,  is  really  all  there  to  be  discovered,  and  that  in 
such  a  paper  as  this  it  is  well  worth  bringing  out  into  state- 
ment. 

I  have  been  more  than  willing  to  take  thus  a  comparatively 
trivial  instance  to  illustrate  my  point.  The  slighter,  the 
more  sudden,  the  more  unlooked-for,  a  given  occasion,  the 


350  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

better  is  shown  the  instinctive,  the  habitual,  character  of 
the  spirit  which  that  occasion  has  but  provided  opportunity 
for  a  man  to  display.  The  introduction  to  the  address  on 
"  Reading  the  Bible  by  Books,"  is  an  example  of  more  pre- 
pared and  considerate  winningness  on  the  part  of  this  ora- 
tor. A  footnote  informs  us  that  the  address  was  one 
delivered  in  Cleveland,  Ohio,  before  the  International  Con- 
vention of  Young  Men's  Christian  Associations.  The  intro- 
duction is  as  follows.  Could  anything  be  conceived  better 
calculated  to  capture  the  good  will  of  an  audience,  better 
calculated  to  put  every  hearer  into  a  disposition  the  most 
favorable  for  fruitful  reception  of  the  truth? 

"  The  main  support  of  all  individual  Christian  life,  the  main- 
spring of  all  high  Christian  work,  must  be  the  truth  of  God. 
Truth  is  the  life-blood  of  piety.  Truth  is  always  more  potent 
and  more  precious  when  we  draw  it  ourselves  out  of  the  Bible. 
I  rode  out  yesterday  with  a  kind  friend  among  the  glories  of  the 
famous  avenue  of  Cleveland,  and  then  away  into  the  beautiful 
country  region  which  they  hope  is  to  be  Cleveland  Park  some 
day,  until  we  passed  presently  a  little  fountain  where  the  water, 
coming  fresh  and  sweet  and  bright,  was  bursting  from  the  hill- 
side. The  water  we  drink  in  the  houses  here  from  the  lake  is  de- 
lightful, but  there  it  was  a  fountain.  There  is  nothing  like  drink- 
ing water  out  of  a  fountain.  And  I  remembered  what  my  Lord 
Bacon  has  said :  '  Truth  from  any  other  source  is  like  water  from 
a  cistern ;  but  truth  drawn  out  of  the  Bible  is  like  drinking  water 
from  a  fountain,  immediately  where  it  springeth.'  Ah,  this  Chris- 
tian work  we  have  to-day  in  the  world  will  be  wise  and  strong 
and  mighty  just  in  proportion,  other  things  being  equal,  as  it  is 
directed  and  controlled  and  inspired  by  what  we  draw  ourselves 
out  of  the  Word  of  God !  I  have  come  to  speak  to  people  who 
want  to  study  the  Bible,  who  do  study  the  Bible,  who  love  the 
Bible,  and  would  fain  love  it  more  and  know  it  better.  I  am  not 
to  speak  to  Biblical  scholars,  though  such  are  present,  no  doubt; 
I  am  not  to  speak  to  persons  of  great  leisure,  who  can  spend 
hours  every  day  over  their  Bible ;  but  to  busy  workers,  most  of 
them  busy  with  the  ordinary  pursuits  of  human  life,  in  their  homes 
or  places  of  business,  and  all  of  them  busy.    I  have  no  doubt,  in 


JOHN  ALBERT  BROADUS  351 

the  varied  work  of  Christian  people  in  the  world,  that  they  wish 
to  know  how  busy  people,  often  interrupted  in  their  daily  reading 
of  the  Bible,  and  often  limited  for  time,  can  make  the  most  of 
this  daily  reading.  Therefore,  they  will  be  willing,  perhaps,  to 
listen." 

Willing,  indeed,  and  much  more  than  merely  willing,  to  lis- 
ten, an  audience  must  be  after  hearing  an  introduction  like 
that.  They  are  won  from  the  start.  The  speaker  has  real- 
ized his  own  idea  of  what  a  speaker  should  do ;  he  has  gained 
the  auxiliar  sympathy  of  his  hearers. 

Let  it  be  observed  that  I  quote  the  foregoing  simply  and 
exclusively  for  the  purpose  of  exemplifying  the  winningness 
of  Dr.  Broadus.  There  is  nothing  else  than  that  particularly 
striking  in  the  passage.  Indeed,  that  itself  is  not  striking 
in  it.  It  could  not  have  been  striking  without  tending 
thereby  to  defeat  its  own  object  —  which  object  was  not  to 
excite  admiration  for  beauty  of  rhetoric,  but  to  create  that 
sympathy  between  speaker  and  hearer  which  is  the  condi- 
tion of  eloquence. 

The  next  thing  to  be  noted  in  Dr.  Broadus's  eloquence  is 
a  trait  close  of  kin  to  his  winningness.  It  is  candor.  Can- 
dor is  a  very  marked  trait  of  Dr.  Broadus's  mental  and  moral 
character.  I  was  about  to  say  of  his  mental  and  moral  tem- 
perament. That  would,  I  think,  have  been  true;  but  the 
trait  goes  deeper  than  temperament.  It  strikes  down  and 
goes  through.  It  fixes  its  bite,  like  that  of  an  anchor,  on 
the  basis  of  the  orator's  being. 

Candor  is,  nevertheless,  as  I  judge,  a  considerate  matter 
with  Dr.  Broadus,  a  matter  of  conscious  purpose  and  will. 
It  is  even  a  part,  too,  of  his  oratoric  sagacity.  The  orator  ■ 
and  the  man  are  one  in  him,  and  he  well  understands  how  j 
eloquent  it  is  to  be  candid.  This  trait  is  omnipresent,  like 
the  kindred  trait  of  winningness,  in  Dr.  Broadus's  dscourse. 
It  sometimes  produces  an  effect  which  you  might  be  tempt- 
ed to  feel  as  an  effect  of  mannerism,  did  not  the  evident  pro- 
found sincerity  of  the  candor  forbid.  For  instance,  it  might 
almost  be  pronounced  a  habit  of  Dr.  Broadus,  in  preparation 


352 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


for  presenting,  in  order  to  argue  and  enforce  it,  some 
certain  truth  or  view  of  truth,  to  begin  by  presenting  strong- 
ly the  truth  or  view  of  truth  opposed,  or  apparently  opposed, 
and  acknowledging  fully  the  weight  and  value  of  that.  He 
thus  wins  the  great  advantage  of  appearing  before  his 
audience  in  the  light  of  one  able  and  willing  to  see  both 
sides  of  a  question.  The  introduction  to  his  noble  sermon 
entitled,  and  happily  entitled,  "  Let  us  have  peace  with 
God,"  offers  an  example  of  this.  The  preacher  is  about  to 
preach  on  justification  by  faith.  He  will  let  his  hearers  un- 
derstand that  he  does  not  regard  this  doctrine  as  constitut- 
ing the  whole  of  the  gospel.    He  says: 

"  The  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  is  simply  one  of  the  ways 
by  which  the  gospel  takes  hold  of  men.  You  do  not  hear  anything 
of  that  doctrine  in  the  Epistles  of  John.  ...  I  think  some- 
times that  Martin  Luther  made  the  world  somewhat  one-sided  by 
his  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith;  that  the  great  mass  of  the 
Protestant  world  are  inclined  to  suppose  there  is  no  other  way  of 
looking  on  the  gospel.  There  are  very  likely  some  here  to-day 
who  would  be  more  impressed  by  John's  way  of  presenting  the 
matter;  but  probably  the  majority  would  be  more  impressed  by 
Paul's  way,  and  it  is  our  business  to  present  now  this  and  now 
that,  to  present  first  one  side  and  then  the  other.  So  we  have 
here  before  us  to-day  Paul's  great  doctrine  of  justification  by 
faith,"  etc. 

Who  does  not  see  that  such  a  manner  as  that  of  proposing 
a  subject  is  well  adapted  to  propitiate  all  classes  of  hearers? 
It  is  so  fair,  so  balanced,  so  candid.  You  are  willing  to  trust 
your  stake  in  the  truth  quite  unreservedly  in  the  hands  of 
a  man  like  that. 

I  feel  all  the  time  that  the  examples  I  offer  will  disap- 
point readers,  will  seem  to  them  to  fall  short  of  justifying 
my  praise.  But  the  truth  is  that  what  thus  far  I  praise  is 
such  in  its  quality  as,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  not  to 
admit  of  being  shown  in  immediately  striking  examples.  It 
nowhere  obtrudes,  it  nowhere  seeks  to  be  seen.     It  conceals 


4^, 


JOHN  ALBERT  BROADUS  353 

itself  rather.  It  pervades  the  discourse  as  the  atmosphere 
f  pervades  space.  It  produces  its  effect  without  being  per- 
I  ceived  as  cause. 

Moderation  of  tone,  conscientious  carefuhiess^  of  state- 
ment, sound  and  vigilant  scholarship  are  additional,  tho  still 
kindred,  characteristics  of  Dr.  Broadus's  work.  He  in- 
spires confidence  not  only  in  his  intention,  but  in  his  dis- 
ciplined and  equipped  ability,  to  be  fair.  Scripture  receives 
not  only  reverent,  but  also  enlightened,  treatment  at  his 
hands.  He  is  a  true  interpreter  of  texts,  and  not  a  mere 
user,  far  less,  as  many  a  preacher  thoughtlessly  is,  an  abuser, 
of  them  for  homiletic  purposes.  Rarely,  indeed,  will  he  be 
found  to  have  assumed  the  current  conventional  reading 
and  understanding  of  a  verse  or  passage  of  Scripture,  with- 
)  out  having  evidently  first  subjected  that  verse  or  passage  to 
j  independent,  scholarlike  examination  of  his  own  for  the  real 
truth  of  its  form  and  its  meaning.  It  agrees  with  this  spirit 
and  habit  on  Dr.  Broadus's  part  that,  though  intensely  the 
reverse  of  obscurantist,  he  should  be,  as  he  is,  for  "  sub- 
stance of  doctrine,"  found  everywhere  in  cordial  and  en- 
lightened accord  with  what,  by  the  general  consent  of  the 
II  church  in  all  ages,  is  confessed  to  be  orthodoxy.  The  so- 
rt called  "new  theology,"  for  example,  exercises  not  the 
I  slightest  real  influence  to  conform  Dr.  Broadus. 

I  feel  bound  to  say  that  one  of  the  rare  lapses  from  that 
habit  of  fresh,  unprepossessed  exegesis  of  Scripture  which  I 
attribute  to  Dr.  Broadus,  I  seem  to  myself  to  find  in  a  certain 
section  of  his  sermon  on  "  The  Apostle  Paul  as  a  Preacher." 
This  sermon  as  a  whole  is  a  most  excellent  sermon.     It  de- 
serves special  attention  as  constituting  what  one  might  call  a 
manifesto  of  the  purpose  and  standard  of  the  author's  work  as 
a  preacher.     It  betrays  a  just  sense  in  him  of  a  need  that 
always  exists,  but  that  peculiarly  existed   in  the   Southern 
part   of   our   country   at   the   time   when    this    sermon   was 
.1  preached ;  the  need,  namely,  of  holding  the  pulpit  to  sober, 
1]  careful,  conscientious  inculcation  of  Scriptural  truth,  as  op- 
posed to  the  lawless  indulgence  of  individual  fancy  in  quasi- 
W 


354 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


religious  harangue,  misconceived  to  be  "  eloquence."  I 
should  not  be  surprised  to  learn  that  the  sermon  referred  to, 
supported  as  it  has  been  by  the  author's  subsequent  life- 
long example,  and  by  his  professional  teaching  no  less,  had 
exercised  at  least  a  local  influence  entitling  it  to  the  dis- 
tinction of  being  an  "  epoch-making "  discourse.  It  was 
preached  in  1857  —  at  a  date,  therefore,  when  the  preacher 
was  a  comparatively  young  man  —  and  preached  before  the 
University  of  Virginia,  with  the  advantage  of  official  rela- 
tion to  that  institution  enjoyed  by  the  preacher  as  chaplain. 

Because  I  can  so  sincerely  praise  the  discourse  on  the 
whole,  I  feel  the  more  free,  and,  if  the  solecism  will  be  al- 
lowed, also  the  more  bound,  to  point  out  what  I  conceive  to 
be  an  exceptional  negligence  of  interpretation  in  this  in- 
stance admitted  by  the  author.  Dr.  Broadus  treats  the  text, 
"  For  his  [Paul's]  letters,  say  they,  are  weighty  and  power- 
ful; but  his  bodily  presence  is  weak  and  his  speech  con- 
temptible," as  if  the  contrast  contemplated  in  it  were  be- 
tween Paul's  style  in  writing,  on  the  one  hand,  and  his 
personal  appearance  and  gift  in  speaking,  on  the  other.  The 
fact,  as  I  must  think  Dr.  Broadus  himself  would  on  fresh 
investigation  concede,  is  that  no  thought  of  Paul's  looks, 
as  impressive  or  the  contrary,  entered  at  all  into  question 
with  the  apostle's  opponents.  His  "  bodily  presence "  was 
not  in  the  least  his  personal  appearance,  but  simply  his 
presence  in  the  body.  Paul,  absent,  expressed  himself  in  his 
letters  as  if  he  would  take  very  serious,  summary  measures 
with  the  disobedient;  but  when  he  was  actually  in  person 
on  the  ground,  he  was  not  much  to  be  feared ;  he  was  in  act 
far  less  severe  than  he  had  threatened  to  be.  The  context 
all  supports  this  view  of  the  matter,  and  it  is  all  inconsistent 
with  the  view  that  has  been  traditionally  taken,  and  that  Dr. 
Broadus  seems,  in  a  momentary  lapse  of  remissness,  to  have 
adopted. 

It  would  be  easy,  but  it  is  unnecessary,  to  accumulate  in- 
stances of  wise  corrective  exegesis  incidentally  applied  by 
this  most  instructive  preacher  to  texts  of  Scripture  often 


\^ 


JOHN  ALBERT  BROADUS  355 

misunderstood.  A  fine  instance  occurs  in  a  well-considered 
sermon  of  his  on  prayer.  Paraphrasing  a  familiar  saying  of 
our  Lord,  "  And  if  ye  who  are  evil,  with  all  the  imperfec- 
tions of  your  sinful  humanity,  if  ye  know  how  to  give  good 
gifts  to  your  children,  how  much  more  will  your  Heavenly 
Father  give  good  things  to  them  that  ask  Him.  It  is  not," 
he  says,  "  an  argument  merely,  as  I  used  to  think  it  was  — 
it  is  not  merely  an  argument  as  to  willingness  to  give.  It  is 
an  argument  as  to  wisdom  in  giving.  If  ye  then,  being  evil, 
know  how  to  give  good  gifts  to  your  children."  Such  care 
on  his  part  is,  as  I  have  said,  the  rule.  This  truly  reverent 
spirit  toward  divine  revelation  prevails  in  his  preaching.  It 
is  a  perpetual  silent  rebuke  of  that  license  in  handling 
of  Scripture  which  some  indulge,  some  even  who,  in  pro- 
fession profoundly  obeisant  to  the  Word  of  God,  neverthe- 
less in  practice  often  wrest  the  Word  of  God  to  make  it 
mean  whatever  at  the  moment  may  promise  to  serve  some 
certain  purpose  of  their  own,  supposed  by  them  to  be  pious. 
I  have  thus  far  dealt  well-nigh  exclusively  with  the  gen- 
eral traits  of  Dr.  Broadus's  preaching,  and  found  nothing, 
or  almost  nothing,  except  to  praise.  Is  Dr.  Broadus,  then, 
a  faultless  preacher?  my  readers  will  be  ready,  with  sage 
incredulity,  to  ask.  I  can  fancy  the  "  slow,  wise  smile " 
with  which  the  subject  himself  of  this  criticism  would  gen- 
tly reprove  even  a  confessed  eulogist  whom  he  should  hear 
making  the  preposterous  claim  of  freedom  from  fault  on  any 
preacher's  behalf.  No,  Dr.  Broadus  has  his  faults ;  or  rather 
his  imperfections.  I  make  this  distinction,  for  with  his 
ideal  of  preaching  I  am  delightfully  contented;  but  his  at- 
tainment falls  short  at  points.  To  begin  with,  his  style  is 
not  all  that  it  should  be.  It  is  a  good  style,  it  is  a  very  good 
style;  but  it  ought  to  be  better.  Clearer  it  could  not  well 
be;  clearer,  that  is  to  say,  than  in  general  it  is,  for  an  oc- 
casional sentence  leaves  even  here  something  to  be  desired. 
Take  this  for  example: 

"Just  a  little  while  after  he  [Paul]  uttered  these  words  [about 


356         MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

divine  predestination],  from  which  men  want  to  infer  that  the 
man  who  beheves  it  need  not  feel  concerned  for  his  salvation  or 
for  the  salvation  of  others,  just  a  little  after,  came  the  passionate 
words  of  the  text  ['  For  I  could  wish  that  myself  were  accursed 
from  Christ  for  my  brethren'].  Nor  is  that  all,  for  you  will 
find  just  following  the  text,  where  he  speaks  of  Esau  and  Jacob, 
that  God  made  a  difference  between  them  before  they  were  born, 
and  where  he  says  of  Pharaoh  that  God  raised  him  up  that  he 
might  show  his  power  in  him,  and  that  God's  name  might  be  de- 
clared throughout  all  the  earth." 

In  what  foregoes,  the  italicized  pronoun  it  is  not  readily 
referred  to  its  proper  antecedent;  it  even  appears  to  have 
been  carelessly  misemployed  for  "  them "  to  represent 
"  words."  ("  His  salvation  "  should  probably  be  "  his  own 
salvation.")  But  it  is  the  last  sentence  of  the  quotation 
preceding  that  I  find  to  be  seriously  obscure.  The  only 
clearing  of  it  that  has  occurred  to  me  involves  the  loose- 
ness in  syntax  of  making  the  clause  "  where  he  speaks  of 
Esau,"  etc.,  the  object  of  the  verb  "  find."  The  construc- 
/  tion  is  no  doubt  simply  an  infelicity  of  extemporization  not 
/  corrected  in  the  course  of  revision  for  the  press. 

It  is  proper  now  to  remind  ourselves  that  any  fair  or  wise 
appreciation  of  Dr.  Broadus's  style  in  preaching,  must  be 
^j  appreciation  of  it  regarded  as  spoken,  and  not  as  written, 
\  style.     For  Dr.  Broadus  is  an  extemporary  preacher,  and 
these  printed  sermons  of  his  bear,  the  most  of  them,  insep- 
arable internal  marks  of  remaining  still  very  much  in  the 
same  form  of  syntax  and  of  rhetoric  in  which,  having  never 
been    written,    they   originally    flowed    from    the    speaker's 
lips.    This  fact  duly  considered,  the  style  is  remarkably  free 
from  faults.     Faults,  however,  it  has,  and  its  faults  are  pre- 
[  cisely  such  as  extemporization  naturally,  almost  necessar- 
I  ily,  engenders.    The  virtues  of  it  much  more  than  compen- 
sate; and  of  its  virtues,  too,  it  may  be  said  that  they  are 
precisely  those  peculiar  to   extemporary  discourse  —  natu- 
ralness, directness,  familiarity,  ease.    But  these  virtues  might 
conceivably  exist  without  the  faults  which  are  so  apt  to  ac- 


JOHN  ALBERT  BROADUS  357 

/  company  them  —  negligences  of  various  sorts,  looseness  in 
\  construction,  grammatical  slips,  ill-chosen  words,  and  so 
forth.  Careful  note  of  the  sentences  just  quoted  will  find 
several  illustrations  in  point.  Gleaning  here  and  there 
through  other  pages  we  light  on  an  occasional  sentence  like 
this :  "  None  of  our  divisions  of  sect,  of  country,  or  of  race, 
is  half  so  hard  to  overcome  as  was  that  question  of  the 
junction  of  Jewish  Christian  and  Gentile  Christian."  "  To 
overcome "  a  "  question "  is  of  course  hardly  a  defensible 
form  of  expression.  An  occasional  negligence  of  the  sort 
is  certainly  excusable,  it  is  perhaps  scarcely  avoidable,  in 
extemporary  discourse;  but  Dr.  Broadus  would  have  been 
warranted  in  correcting  thoroughly  enough  not  to  let  such 
appear  in  the  printed  volume.  What  is  noticeable,  and  in  the 
highest  degree  commendable,  is  that  the  thought  with  this 
preacher  is  never  negligent,  never  hasty,  never  crude.  He 
does  not  think  extemporarily. 

Let  me  despatch  at  once  my  finding  of  petty  faults  in  Dr. 
Broadus's  style.  "  Among  his  remarkable  combination  of 
mental  qualities  "  is  certainly  not  good  English.  "  With  all 
his  abilities  and  inspiration,  men  often  heard  [Paul]  with- 
out heeding  "  is  a  sentence  in  which  the  first  clause  has  no 
proper  syntax.  "  It,"  is  without  antecedent,  and  the  ante- 
cedent for  "  them,"  is  ambiguous,  in  the  following  sentence : 
"  I  am  trying  to  ascertain  what  books  they  were  which 
Jesus  and  the  apostles  declared  to  be  divine,  and  I  learn 
beyond  a  doubt  that  the  Jews  who  heard  them  understood, 
without  fail  and  without  exception,  that  it  meant  precisely 
what  we  call  the  Old  Testament."  "  May  be  "  is  repeatedly 
used    for  "  it  may  be,"   in  the  sense  of  "  perhaps."     The 

'  Scotch  form  "  proven  "  for  "  proved  "  occurs.  "  Gotten  " 
seems  to  be  preferred  to  "  got."  "  Cranky  "  is  an  adjective 
rather  graphic  than  in  proper  taste.  "  Poor  sticks "  is  a 
colloquialism  of  which  the  same  may  be  said.     "  It  is  just 

1  wonderful  "  condescends  too  much.    "  Right  hard  "  does  not 
,  displease,  but  it  is,  I  suppose,  to  be  regarded  as  a  provincial- 
ism of  the  South  and  Southwest. 


358  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

Dr.  Broadus  deals  sparingly  in  quotations  from  litera- 
/  ture,  although  wide  reading  and  fine  culture  on  his  part  are 
made  evident  enough.  Addison's  generally  misquoted  line, 
"  The  wrecks  of  matter  and  the  crush  of  worlds,"  Dr. 
Broadus  gives  ,  in  its  ordinary  inaccurate  form,  "  The 
wreck,"  etc.  "  Wreck  of  matter "  expresses  a  different 
thought  from  the  thought  of  Addison,  and  one  too  metaphys- 
ical for  poetry  —  if  rather,  indeed,  it  be  not  properly  an 
unthinkable  thing,  "  the  wreck  of  matter."  There  might  be 
the  annihilation  of  matter;  but  matter  wrecked  is  still  mat- 
ter, and  that  it  was,  and  strictly  nothing  else  than  matter, 
before  the  wrecking.  There  may  be  wrecks  of  matter,  that 
is,  wrecks  consisting  of  matter;  but  a  wreck  of  matter  col- 
lectively considered  is  impossible  to  thought.  The  moral 
of  all  which  metaphysics  is:  Be  accurate  in  your  quota- 
tions. 

But  a  more  serious  example  of  negligence  in  this  regard 
on  Dr.  Broadus's  part  occurs  in  a  passage  adduced  by  me, 
some  pages  back,  in  favorable  illustration  of  his  manner. 
In  that  passage  he  quotes  Lord  Bacon  as  follows :  "  Truth 
from  any  other  source  is  like  water  from  a  cistern,  but 
truth  drawn  out  of  the  Bible  is  like  drinking  water  from  a 
fountain,  immediately  where  it  springeth."  Here  the  agree- 
ably archaic  and  individual  expression  which  I  italicize  is 
absolutely  the  only  phrase,  and  it  is  almost  the  only  word, 
accurately  preserved  by  the  preacher  from  his  original, 
which,  condensed,  reads  thus :  "  This  divine  water 
.  .  is  first  forced  up  into  a  cistern,  and  from  thence 
fetched  and  derived  for  use;  or  else  it  is  drawn  and  re- 
ceived in  buckets  and  vessels  immediately  where  it  spring- 
eth." This  fresh,  fountainlike  phrase  Dr.  Broadus  remem- 
bered, and  no  wonder.  The  rest  he  evolved,  as  he  had  a 
perfect  right  to  do,  especially  since  for  his  own  present 
purpose  he  improved  upon  the  original.  (He  might,  I  am 
bound  to  say,  have  improved  a  little  upon  his  own  improve- 
ment, for  instance,  by  saying,  "  But  truth  out  of  the  Bible 
is  like  water  drawn  from  a  fountain,  immediately  where  it 


JOHN  ALBERT  BROADUS  359 

springeth.")     What  I  now  point  out  as  constituting  negli- 
.  gence,  on  Dr.  Broadus's  part,  not  to  be  commended,  is  the 
<   printing  of  the  passage  in  such  a  way  as  to  credit  Bacon 
with  language  that  Bacon  never  used.     The  express  quota- 
'  tion  might  have  been  hmited  to  the  one  picturesque  phrase 
actually  reproduced.    The  remainder  would  then  have  stood 
for  exactly  what  it  is,  namely.  Dr.  Broadus's  free  and  ef- 
fective report  of  Bacon's  observation  —  which,  by  the  way, 
is   to   be   found   near   the   end   of  the   "  Advancement  of 
Learning." 

After  these  "small  tithings"  of  criticism,  I  must  guard 
myself  against  being  misunderstood.  I  would  not  by  any 
means  have  the  preacher  a  purist  or  a  precisian  in  speech. 
On  the  contrary,  let  him  enjoy  his  freedom.  His  rightful 
/  latitude  is  great.  I  have  instanced  negligences  such  as  I 
think  ought  to  be  avoided.  Now  let  me  show  an  example 
or  two  of  negligences  such  as  the  preacher  may  feel  at  per- 
fect liberty  to  indulge.  Here  is  a  sentence,  admirable  for 
its  meaning,  and  admirable,  as  I  think,  for  the  freedom  in 
form  with  which  the  meaning  is  expressed: 

"  People  don't  know  about  believing  the  preacher  nowadays, 
and  a  great  many  people  don't  know  about  acknowledging  the 
authority  of  a  church  as  they  once  did ;  but  the  people  who  come 
to  hear  the  gospel,  if  you  bring  them  something  right  out  of  the 
Bible,  not  a  broken,  dead  fragment,  but  a  part  of  the  living  whole, 
full  of  the  true,  divine  life,  and  show  them  its  meaning  as  God 
has  taught  it,  and  lay  that  meaning,  explained,  upon  their  hearts 
and  lives,  the  people  everywhere  respond  to  that;  they  like  it; 
they  feel  that  that  is  good." 

Another  example : 

"  When  the  various  writings  of  inspired  men  had  all  been  com- 
pleted and  began  to  be  thought  of  as  one  collection,  complete  in 
itself,  and  when  men  began  to  know  that  singular  and  beautiful 
harmony  which  pervades  so  wonderfully  all  this  great  collection  of 
books,  written  by  so  many  men,  through  so  many  long  centuries, 
perceiving  that  it  was  not  only  a  complete  collection  of  books,  but 


360  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

that  they  were  all  in  harmony  with  each  other,  then  the  idea  grew 
upon  the  Christian  mind  that  this  was  really  one  book," 

The  foregoing  sentences  would  not  be  admirable  as  speci- 
mens of  written  style;  but  as  specimens  of  spoken  style  they 
are,  it  seems  to  me,  notwithstanding  their  inelegant  verbal 
repetitions,  and  their  somewhat  formless  syntax,  worthy  of 
praise.  They  serve  at  least  to  show  by  contrast  what  sort 
of  negligences  in  form  I,  for  my  part,  would  hold  to  be  fair- 
ly admissible  in  extemporary  preaching.  Such  discourse  as 
these  quotations  exemplify,  is  exactly  in  the  nobly  free  man- 
ner of  utterance  commended  to  the  lover  of  good  oratory  by 
the  use  and  example  of  great  masters  like  John  Bright,  in 
the  art  of  popular  harangue. 

I  feel  obliged  once  again  to  redress  my  balance  of  praise 
and  objection.  Dr.  Broadus,  even  in  his  more  elaborately 
careful  discourse,  discourse  which  may  be  supposed  to  have 
been  written  beforehand  with  studious  pains,  does  not  show 
himself  quite  so  heedful  as  he  might  properly  be  to  meet  the 
instinctive  demand  of  the  ear  in  the  matter  of  rhythm  and 
harmony  of  style.  Take  this  following  sentence  for  ex- 
ample; it  occurs  in  an  academic  discourse  delivered  before 
the  Society  of  Alumni  of  the  University  of  Virginia.  One 
wonders  how  the  writer  should  not  have  shunned  the  shock 
to  the  ear  of  the  "  now "  here  twice  occurring  in  similar 
places  so  near  to  each  other,  of  pause  and  emphasis : 

"  It  is  a  thought  not  strange  to  the  bosom  of  any  reflecting 
instructor,  a  thought  tending  to  humility,  and  yet  to  honest  pride 
in  the  true  power  of  his  calling,  that  centuries  to  come  men  may 
recognize  as  his  chief  claim  to  their  gratitude,  the  influence  he 
exerted  upon  another;  yea,  that  highly  and  deservedly  honored 
as  he  is  now,  posterity  may  remember  him  at  all,  only  for  having 
been  the  teacher  of  one  who  sits  now,  a  modest  lad  scarce  noticed 
among  his  pupils." 

Charm  is  present  everywhere  in  Dr.  Broadus's  discourse; 
but  it  is  seldom  a  charm  carried  to  the  last,  the  consum- 


Q^^'  JOHN  ALBERT  BROADUS  361 

mate,  degree  byjexquisi^  rhetorical  form.  You  constantly 
feel  that  the  orator  is  too  intent  on  what  he  will  say  to  be 
quite  sufficiently  solicitous  as  to  how  he  will  say  it  —  ex- 
cepting always,  or  almost  always,  that  he  will  say  it  in  a 
manner  to  have  it  instantly  understood.  The  supreme  mood 
of  feeling  will,  however,  sometimes  usurp  the  man,  and  na- 
ture then  will  snatch  a  grace  in  expression  beyond  the  reach 
of  art, —  as  witness  the  pathos  and  beauty  of  the  following 
passage  from  a  memorial  discourse  on  a  young  colleague  of 
the  speaker's,  fallen  from  his  side  in  the  faculty  of  the 
Southern  Baptist  Theological  Seminary,  Louisville,  Ken- 
tucky : 

"  Eight  years  ago  we  buried  with  the  deepest  sense  of  loss  our 
oldest  professor,  who  had  been  with  us  from  the  beginning. 
What  a  shock,  that  the  next  to  pass  away  should  be  our  young- 
est! We  cannot  but  feel  like  parents  grown  gray  when  called  to 
bury  a  son  in  all  his  youthful  prime.  It  is  a  mournful  experience. 
God  help  us.  And  can  I  more  say?  Three  years  ago  the  orange 
blossom,  and  now  these  flowers,  that  vainly  essay  to  smile  upon 
a  scene  too  full  of  sadness.  O  pitying  heavens,  drop  down  the 
dews  of  your  consolation ;  O  pitying  angels,  doubtless  ye  care,  but 
ye  know  not,  O  angels,  the  sweet,  sweet  human  love,  the  bitter, 
bitter  human  sorrow.  O  sympathizing  Savior,  thou  didst  weep 
with  sisters  beside  a  brother's  grave,  and  thou  knowest,  thou 
knowest,  O  Savior,  that  here  is  a  grief  still  harder  to  bear.  O 
Holy  Ghost,  the  Comforter,  come  now  and  comfort.  O  God  and 
Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Father  of  mercies  and  God 
of  all  comfort,  the  father  of  the  fatherless  and  the  widow's  God, 
come  guide  and  uphold  one  who  strives  to  be  brave  and  calm  as 
she  leads  forth  into  life  the  tottering  steps  of  her  fatherless  little 
boy." 

There  is  a  tradition  that  -^schines,  banished  from 
Athens  after  his  defeat  by  Demosthenes  in  the  famous  con- 
test of  eloquence  between  the  two  orators,  read  to  his  pupils 
at  Rhodes  his  great  rival's  oration  on  the  Crown,  and,  on 
their  applauding  and  praising  it,  generously  said,  "  You 
should  have  heard  the  rascal  deliver  it  himself !  "     And  if 


362  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

the  readers  of  this  paper  think  the  passage  just  shown  them 
beautiful  in  print,  I  can  strongly  say,  "  You  should  have 
heard  it  from  the  lips  of  its  author !  "  There  is  a  strand 
of  pathos  in  tone,  braided  inseparably  into  the  speech  of 
Dr.  Broadus,  which  must  have  given  a  peculiar  all-subduing 
effect  to  such  a  passage  of  eloquence  as  the  foregoing. 

Concerning  the  structure  of  the  sermon  in  Dr.  Broadus's 
hands,  it  may  be  said  generally  that  it  is  excellent,  judged, 
as  of  course  the  structure  of  sermons  ought  always  to  be 
judged,  with  reference  to  the  particular  object  had  in  view 
on  the  particular  occasion.  That  object  is  usually  well 
chosen,  and  it  is  usually  sought  with  oratoric  wisdom.  Now 
and  then  there  seems  to  be  matter  introduced  which,  tho 
valuable  indeed  in  itself  —  Dr.  Broadus's  matter  is  always 
valuable  —  does  not  belong  closely  enough  to  the  present 
specific  main  purpose  to  be  served.  An  instance  of  this 
occurs  in  the  sermon  entitled  "  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given 
you,"  where  a  page  of  introduction  is  devoted  to  demonstrat- 
ing the  absurdity  of  Professor  Tyndall's  "  prayer-test,"  so- 
called.  Such  a  digression  in  a  sermon,  vivid  in  interest  at 
the  proper  moment,  belongs  among  the  things  that  perish 
with  the  perishing  original  occasion.  Again,  the  introduc- 
tion to  the  sermon  on  "  Worship  "  is  one  which  would  be 
equally  appropriate  to  a  sermon  on  any  other  subject  than 
the  actual  one  suggested  by  the  Savior's  conversation  with 
the  woman  of  Samaria  —  the  introduction  consisting  of  a 
luminous  and  interesting  comment  on  the  Savior's  conduct 
of  the  interview,  a  comment  which  might  perhaps  better 
have  been  given  in  connection  with  a  preliminary  pulpit 
reading  of  the  chapter. 

The  progress  of  thought  is  in  general  manifest  and  unin- 
terrupted from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  a  sermon.  I 
note,  however,  what  seems  to  be  an  exception,  occurring  in 
the  sermon  entitled  "  Let  us  have  peace  with  God."  The 
preacher  closes  with  the  exhortation  of  his  text,  repeated  as 
still  applicable  even  in  the  face  of  things  that  might  seem 
to   make   obedience   to   it   impossible :     "  Let  us,"   he   says, 


JOHN  ALBERT  BROADUS  363 

"  have  peace  with  God  notwithstanding  our  unworthiness." 
This  is  enlarged  upon,  and  then  the  preacher  continues: 
"  Again,  let  us  have  peace  with  God,  though  we  are  still 
sinful  and  unholy."  If  there  is  true  progress  here,  certainly 
the  progress  is  not  so  obvious  as  it  ought  to  be. 

One  receives  the  impression  in  reading  the  contents  of 
Dr.  Broadus's  volume  collectively,  that  the  author  has 
made  the  sermons  and  addresses  here  published  perhaps  in 
some  measure  a  repository  for  the  ripest  and  best  results  of 
a  lifetime  of  experience,  observation,  and  thought.  The 
]  sermons  do  not  read  quite  like  a  selection  of  sermons  pro- 
;  duced  in  the  course  of  ordinary  pastoral  labor.  They  are 
rich  in  intellectual  and  spiritual  worth,  but  they  do  not  make 
you  feel  sure  that  the  author  could  publish  volume  after 
volume  of  sermons  approximately  as  good.  The  question  of 
fecundity  on  the  orator's  part  remains  an  open  question  in 
,  one's  mind.  You  are  clear  as  to  the  quality  of  his  pro- 
duction; as  to  the  quantity  of  it,  that  might  or  it  might  not 
reach  a  correspondingly  high  mark.  This  consideration, 
joined  to  the  consideration  that  it  is  charm  rather  than 
power  which  makes  itself  chiefly  felt  in  Dr.  Broadus's  elo- 
quence, alone  gives  me  pause  in  pronouncing  the  subject  of 
the  present  paper  a  peer  in  the  peerage  of  the  world's  fore- 
most preachers.  A  few  more  volumes  of  such  sermons  as  he 
has  published  —  such,  but  with  the  pulse  of  power  some- 
what more  unmistakably  in  them  —  and  his  title  to  his  rank 
would  be  complete.  Already,  if  doubtfully  as  yet  among  the 
greatest  of  preachers,  he  is  something  better  than  that,  un- 
questionably among  the  best. 

[With  the  foregoing  paragraph,  the  original  criticism  of 
Dr.  Broadus,  published  anonymously  in  "  The  Homiletic  Re- 
view "  while  he  still  lived  in  the  full  prime  of  his  manhood, 
was  brought  to  a  close.  Some  fifteen  years  afterward,  he 
died,  and  then,  at  the  request  of  President  Harper,  acting  as 
editor  of  that  periodical,  the  present  writer  prepared  for  the 
"  Biblical  World "  an  estimate  of  the  illustrious  deceased, 


364  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

which  is  here  appended  in  supplement  to  the  paper  preced- 
ing-] 

Dr.  Broadus,  while  still  living,  enjoyed  a  reputation  both 
wide  and  high.  High  enough,  indeed,  for  it  could  hardly 
have  been  imagined  higher;  but,  tho  wide,  not  so  wide  as  he 
deserved.  His  posthumous  fame  is  certain  to  be  lasting, 
for  it  has  solid  foundations  in  personal  merit  of  the  rarest 
quality  safely  immortal  in  achievement  —  achievement 
which,  if  not  to  be  called  commensurate,  is  exquisitely  fit 
and  correspondent.  The  fine  effect  of  personality,  so  apt  to 
be  volatile  and  fugacious,  perishing  with  the  man,  or  at  least 
j  with  the  living  memory  of  the  man,  is,  in  his  case,  fixed  to  a 
>  perpetuity  of  "  life  beyond  life  "  through  books  of  his  sur- 
viving him,  which,  to  a  remarkable  degree,  retain  secure 
the  spirit,  the  genius,  the  refined  quintessence,  of  the  inti- 
mate character  of  their  author. 

Dr.  Broadus  had  what  has  been  memorably  called  "  the 
i,  genius  to  be  loved."    This  trait  in  him  was  partly  no  doubt 
I  a  precious  gift  of  nature,  but  it  was,  as  the  present  writer 
fully  believes,  in  still  greater  part  an  attainment  of  culture. 
A  yet  truer  account  of  it  would  be  rendered,  if  we  should 
use  the  old  language  —  which  it  is  a  pity  to  surrender  as 
worn  out  —  and  call  it  a  fruit  of  grace.    Dr.  Broadus  was 
/  eminently,  singularly,   a  "  gracious "  person.     This  charac- 
ter of  him  was  so  dominant,  it  enforced  itself  so  —  and  this 
without  obtrusion  —  upon  the  wise  observer,  that  it  is  dif- 
ficult not  to  speak  of  it  at  once  in  speaking  of  Dr.  Broadus. 
But  we  here  thus  anticipate. 

Dr.  Broadus  was  a  Southerner,  in  every  sense  of  loyalty 
I  to  the  local  and  social  environment  and  tradition  in  which 
he  was  born  and  in  which  he  lived  his  whole  life.     But  he 
had  a  large  mind  and  a  large  heart,  and  he  was  a  truly  na- 
tional   man.      Indeed    even    national   is   a   term   not   broad  , 
enough;  for  Dr.  Broadus  was  world-wide,  was  ecumenical,  j 
in  his   intelligence,   his   comprehension,   and  his   sympathy.  | 
This,  however,  in  no  lax  Goethean   sense;   rather  in  that 


JOHN  ALBERT  BROADUS  365 

Christian,  that  PauHne  sense,  which  admits  of  a  genuhie,  a 
fervid,    a   vicarious-spirited   patriotism   coexisting.     We   do 
not  naturally  associate  the  idea  of  exact  painstaking  scholar- 
ship with  our  conception  of  the  Southern  character,  even  in 
:  the    highly    cultivated    type    of    that    character.       But    Dr. 
'I  Broadus  was  a  scholar  in  the  severest  sense  of  the  word. 
In  the  department  of  New  Testament  textual  criticism,  he 
may  be  pronounced  an  authority.    His  commentary  on  Mat- 
I  thew  is  an  indestructible  monument  to  his  just  fame  as  a 
lUioroughly   furnished   scholar   and   exegete.     This   work   is 
'  destined  to  hold  its  rank  as  one  among  those  commentaries 
which,  like  Dr.  Hackett's  on  the  Acts,  enjoy  both  a  perma- 
nent and  a  universal   fame  with  New  Testament  scholars. 
It  would  be  a  mistake,  however,  so  to  say  this  as  to  leave 
the    inference   possible    that   Dr.    Broadus's   commentary   is 
not  in  the  noblest  sense  popular  too,  at  the  same  time  that 
it  is  scholarly. 

Dr.  Broadus's  scholarship  was  not  a  thing  detached  or 
detachable  from  the  man  himself.  It  entered  into  and  qual- 
ified his  personal  character.  He  was  thus  not  a  scholar 
simply  in  his  closet  and  in  his  books.  He  carried  his  schol- 
arship about  with  him.  It  was  minted  coin  at  his  command, 
ready  for  circulation.  Not  that  he  was  in  the  least  a  pedant. 
Nothing  could  be  a  greater  misconception  than  to  think  this 
of  Dr.  Broadus.  But  when  in  conversation  a  point,  for  in- 
stance, of  New  Testament  interpretation  incidentally  came 
up.  Dr.  Broadus's  part  in  the  discussion  would  show  that  he 
had  considered  the  point,  had  explored  and  had  weighed  the 

treasons,  on  this  side  and  on  that,  had  made  up  his  mind  and 
was  prepared  to  state  his  result.  Not  at  all  in  the  spirit 
of  the  Abbe  Vertot's  Mon  siege  est  fait,  but  in  the  char- 
acter of  a  man  whose  scholarship  was  of  himself,  and  not 
simply  of  the  student  poring  over  his  books.  It  was  an- 
other distinguished  New  Testament  scholar  and  teacher,  a 
man  very  different  from  Dr.  Broadus,  who,  to  a  request 
from  the  present  writer  for  his  opinion  on  a  certain  point 
(which  must  have  been  scores  of  times  passed  under  re- 


366  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

view  by  him  in  the  class-room)   could  be  brought  to  make 
no  reply  whatever  at  the  moment,  except  that  he  should 
wish  to  look  it  up.     This  also  perhaps  was  very  fine;  but 
it  was  so  in  a  way  quite  contrasted  with  Dr.  Broadus's. 
It   was   as   it   were   only   incidental   that   Dr.    Broadus's 

\  scholarship  was  of  the  Bible  chiefly,  and  especially  of  the 
New  Testament.  I  say  "  as  it  were  incidental  " ;  for,  tho 
his  aptitudes  for  scholarship  would  have  served  him  equally 
well  in  whatever  sphere,  his  profoundest  personal  bias  bent 

h  him  irresistibly  as  a  scholar  toward  the  Bible.     That  same 

i|  personal  bias  also  made  him  a  preacher. 

There  are,  in  the  whole  history  of  the  Christian  church, 
few  examples  of  the  union  of  strict  scholarship  with  genial 
popular  eloquence  in  the  pulpit  justly  to  be  paralleled  with 
that  subsisting  in  the  case  of  Dr.  Broadus.  Dr.  McLaren 
comes  near  being  such  an  example.  He  perhaps  equals,  he 
may  even  surpass,  Dr.  Broadus  in  scholarship;  but,  altho, 
by  the  joint  test  of  quantity  and  of  quality  in  printed  homi- 
letic  production,  greatly  superior  to  Dr.  Broadus,  as  indeed,  I 
am  convinced,  not  inferior  to  any  preacher,  of  any  race,  in 
any  age,  Dr.  McLaren,  as  a  preacher  in  the  pulpit,  has  by  no 
means  the  charm  and  the  power  that  were  the  gift  and  ac- 
quirement of  Dr.  Broadus.  If  Dr.  Broadus  had  given  him- 
self, with  the  same  approach  to  exclusiveness  as  has  been 
the  habit  of  Dr.  McLaren,  to  the  work  of  the  preacher,  and 
if  the  outward  conditions  of  life  in  his  case  had  equally 
iavored,  the  result  of  production  to  his  credit  in  print  might 
have  been  fully  comparable,  both  in  quantity  and  in  quality, 
with  that  of  the  famous  Scotchman.  But  the  brilliancy  of 
immediate  efifect,  in  usefulness  and  in  fame,  due  to  mere  elo- 
quence in  the  pulpit,  would  certainly  have  been  far  greater 
for  Dr.  Broadus.  For  he  had,  beyond  his  British  compeer, 
the  proper  and  distinctive  oratoric  endowment.  If  Dr. 
Broadus,  supposed  running  a  career  exclusively  of  the  pul- 
pit, might  justly  have  been  judged  liable  to  lose  something 
from  the  preacher's  power  by  diversion  to  the  pastor's  office 
—  and  toward  such  diversion  his  naturally  ministering  heart 


JOHN  ALBERT  BROADUS  367 

and  conscience  would  no  doubt  irresistibly  have  inclined 
him  —  the  loss  so  suffered  would  have  been  more  than  made 
up  by  the  emotion,  the  "  unction,"  to  resume  once  more  an 
expressive  old  word,  that  would  thence  have  been  derived  to 
qualify  his  sermons. 

The  two  functions,  that  of  preaching  and  that  of  teaching,  | 
were  inextricably  intertwined  with  each  other  in  the  prac- 
tice of  Dr.  Broadus.  He  taught  when  he  preached,  and  he 
preached  when  he  taught.  Generally  speaking,  one  would 
not  recommend  that  preaching  should  be  permitted  to  inter- 
mingle itself  with  teaching.  But  Dr.  Broadus's  case  was 
fairly  an  exception.  He  could  do  whatever  he  pleased.  "  Be 
wise,  and  do  as  you  will,"  the  celebrated  maxim  of  Augus- 
tine could  be  modified  to  read,  in  adaptation  to  suit  the  prac- 
tice of  Dr.  Broadus.  But  Augustine's  saying  need  not  at  all 
be  changed.  It  might  remain,  '*  Love,  and  do  as  you  will ;  " 
so  much  was  Dr.  Broadus's  wisdom  a  wisdom  of  love.  His 
instinct,  whether  as  preacher  or  as  teacher,  was  a  conscious, 
an  instructed,  instinct.  He  knew  why  he  did  as  he  did.  He 
was  as  wise  in  the  philosophy  of  his  work,  as  he  was  intui- 
tively skilful  in  the  work  itself.  No  one  can  attentively 
read  his  treatise  on  the  "  Preparation  and  Delivery  of  Ser- 
mons," without  seeing  that  this  is  so.  His  own  incompar- 
able art  of  preaching  is  therein  adequately  set  forth  in 
theory.  "  Sympathy  "  was  his  master  secret.  "  Get  the  sym- 
pathy of  your  hearers.  Reinforce  yourself  with  their  good- 
will. Nothing  is  gained  with  them  till  this  is  gained."  Such 
in  effect  was  his  instruction ;  and  such  was  his  own  practice. 
He  glided  into  the  good  will  of  an  audience  with  a  seduc- 
tiveness that  not  so  much  overcame  resistance,  as  cheated 
resistance.  But  all  was  absolute  sincerity.  He  won  good 
will  by  showing  good  will ;  and  the  good  will  that  he  showed, 
he  had.  There  was  no  pretense,  no  affectation,  no  effusive- 
ness. But  before  you  knew  it,  your  capture  was  complete. 
\i  Indeed  you  probably  never  did  know  it  at  all.  The  capture 
\  was  too  complete  for  that.  And  true  capture  it  was.  It  was 
not  capitulation  to  you,  in  order  to  apparent  captivation  of 


ir 


368  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

you.  This  winning  man,  after  he  got  you  under  his  spell, 
would  make  you  hear  what  he  wished  to  tell  you,  not  simply 
what  you  wished  to  have  told. 

It  was  a  rare  felicity  that  so  consummately  good  a 
preacher  was  an  equally  good  teacher  of  preaching;  that  he 
could  impart  the  theory  as  well  as  practice  the  art. 

Such  a  book  as  Dr.  Broadus's  on  sacred  rhetoric  could 
have  been  produced  only  by  a  man  who  was  himself  both  a 
preacher  and  a  professional  teacher  of  preaching.  The 
author  of  that  book  in  fact  taught  many  successive  classes 
of  students  the  art  of  pulpit  eloquence  from  the  professor's 
chair.  He  also  taught  thus  New  Testament  interpretation. 
A  fruit  not  yet  mentioned  here  of  this  latter  teaching,  was 
a  carefully  studied  and  scholarlike  Harmony  of  the  Gospels 
—  a  work  of  such  value  that  no  student  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment desiring  to  be  thorough  can  afford  to  neglect  it. 

Of  Dr.  Broadus,  as  a  teacher  by  his  books,  I  have  said 
these  things.  As  a  teacher  in  the  class-room,  I  have  it  to 
regret  that  I  never  enjoyed  personal  opportunity  to  observe 
Dr.  Broadus. 

This  scholar,  preacher,  teacher,  was  a  man  of  affairs.  He 
could  bring  things  to  pass.  He  knew  how  to  organize  and 
to  administer.  Underneath  that  suave,  that  gracious,  man- 
ner, there  resided  a  potent  aggressive,  executive,  force.  It 
happened  once  to  the  writer  of  this  notice  to  see  a  strik- 
ing display  of  the  quality  in  Dr.  Broadus  thus  described. 
The  occasion  was  not  public,  but  private  —  personal  in  fact 
to  the  one  who  makes  the  present  note  of  it.  A  certain 
practical  end  of  much  temporary  importance,  not  to  Dr. 
Broadus,  but  to  his  friend,  was  depending.  The  altruism, 
the  generosity,  with  which  Dr.  Broadus  gave  himself  to  the 
securing  of  this  end,  was  to  have  been  calculated  on ;  but 
the  energy,  the  vehemence,  exhibited  in  the  effort  was  a 
true  surprise.  That  one  observation  and  experience  of  mine 
profoundly  and  permanently  modified  my  conception  of  Dr. 
Broadus's  character.  It  was  more  easy  afterward  to  under- 
stand the  triumph  over  adverse  conditions  achieved  by  this 


JOHN  ALBERT  BROADUS  369 

noble  and  strenuous  spirit  in  his  career,  first  as  professor  in 
the  Southern  Baptist  Theological  Seminary,  and  then  as 
president  of  that  institution. 

Besides  the  reserve  of  personal  force  at  Dr.  Broadus's 
command  for  the  conduct  of  affairs,  he  had  a  rich  store  of 
the  most  various  worldly  wisdom  (always  without  guile), 
a  worldly  wisdom  partly  intuitive,  but  partly  acquired.  I 
doubt  if  his  generation  included  any  man  wiser  than  he. 
To  be  praised  for  wisdom  by  a  man  himself  so  wise,  was 
honor  indeed;  and  when  a  certain  well-known  man,  about 
whom,  as  to  other  attributes  than  the  attribute  of  prac- 
tical wisdom,  less  favorable  views  are  by  some  entertained, 
when,  I  say,  that  man  was  publicly  pronounced  by  Dr. 
Broadus  to  be,  in  his  opinion,  one  of  the  wisest  men  living, 
I  felt  that  the  force  of  eulogy  could  hardly  further  go. 
And  the  eulogy  was  as  deliberate  as  it  was  sincere. 

Whatever  Dr.   Broadus   became   by  specializing  himself, 
whether   he   was   scholar,   preacher,   teacher,   or   organizer 
)and  administrator,  it  was  always  the  man  behind  the  spe- 
fcialist  that  made   the  peculiar  value  of  what  he  was.    It 
was  a  case  of  character,  still  more  than  of  capacity.    The 
capacity,  of  course,  did  not  lack;  it  was  abundant  in  vol- 
ume and  in  variety.     But  it  was  at  bottom  a  moral,  more 
than  a  mental,   power   and   virtue   that   distinguished   Dr. 
Broadus    from   his    fellows.     Indeed,    I    think    it   might   be 
truly    said   that   the    clear   moral   quality   in    him    actually 
increased   and   purified   his   intellectual   faculties.    He   was 
mentally    wiser,    because    he    was    morally    so    clear.    His 
)  exquisite   candor,   for  example,   which  was  not  mere  cold 
1  candor,  but  warm,  vital  sympathy,  enabled  him  to  see  things 
i  far  more  truly  as  they  were,   because  he  saw  them  in   a 
white  light   supplied   from  within  himself.    The  sympathy 
which  his  candor  was,  not  only  did  not  disqualify  him  for 
seeing  the  truth,  but  it  helped  him  to  see  it  by  quickening 
his  vision  with  pulses  from  the  heart.     Dr.  Broadus  was 
naturally,  I  think,  a  very  proud,  that  is,  a  very  high-spir- 
ited, man.    There  could   not   be  a  wider  mistake  than   to 
X 


370 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


conceive  the  meekness  and  modesty  of  his  disposition  and 
demeanor  as  due  to  any  want  on  his  part  of  a  sensitive 
/honor,  a  just  self-respect.     He  was  proudly  and  nobly  jeal- 
j'ous  for  his  own  native  South;  and  to  me  it  was  a  fit  and 
'  a  beautiful  thing  to  behold  the  fine  fidelity  to  what  he  con- 
ceived to  be  the  fair  claims  of  his  section,  with  which  he 
,f,         I  always  performed  his  office  of  reconciler  between  the  two 
^0^  -—^'mutually  estranged  parts  of  his  one  beloved  country.    He 
\  made  no  unmanly  obeisances.     He  stood  straight  up  before 

his  countrymen  of  the  North,  while  he  stretched  out  sincere 
hands  of  proffered  fraternal  fellowship  to  them.  It  was  a 
splendid,  it  was  better,  it  was  a  persuasive  and  ennobling, 
exhibition  of  manhood. 

We  should  be  doing  Dr.  Broadus  the  one  wrong  which 
of  all  possible  wrongs  he  would  himself  most  reproachfully 
regret,  not  to  recognize  and  proclaim  that  what  in  him  as 
man  was  thus  worthy  of  praise,  belonged  to  him  in  his 
quality  as  Christian.  His  noblest  virtues  were  not  native 
fruit,  but  grafted.  The  original  stock  was  good,  that  is, 
comparatively  good;  but  it  was  the  scions  implanted  that 
bore  that  rare  and  that  ample  fruitage  of  refined  and  beautiful 
character  which  we  admired  in  Dr.  Broadus.  I  never  knew 
any  other  man  of  whom  this  seemed  to  me  quite  so  mani- 
festly, so  strikingly,  so,  may  I  say  it?  blazingly,  dazzlingly 
true,  as  it  seemed  to  me  in  Dr.  Broadus's  case.  It  may  be 
unconscious  transference,  on  my  part,  from  the  man  to  his 
books,  but  I  imagine  that  I  feel  in  a  degree  the  same  effect, 
when  I  read  even,  for  example,  his  commentary  on  Matthew. 
Take  the  following  passage,  extracted  from  what  he  says 
on  the  precept  "Resist  not  him  that  is  evil": 

"  To  resist,  to  resent,  to  punish,  whether  in  national  or  individ- 
ual affairs,  is  not  necessarily  and  inherently  sinful,  but  is  useful, 
when  properly  regulated,  to  society,  and  even  to  the  wrongdoer 
himself;  and  so  it  is  sometimes  a  duty  to  punish,  even  when  we 
should  prefer  to  do  otherwise.  But  to  resist  or  resent  in  a  pas- 
sionate and  revengeful  spirit  is  deeply  sinful,  and  a  sin  to  which 
men  are  so  strongly  inclined  that  it  ought  to  be  guarded  against 


JOHN  ALBERT  BROADUS  371 

with  the  utmost  care.  And  yet  many  professing  Christians,  not 
only  act  when  excited,  but  deliberately  and  habitually  avow  their 
intention  to  act,  in  the  way  which  is  here  so  pointedly  condemned 
—  more  sensitive  to  what  the  world  calls  insult  and  dishonor, 
than  to  the  teachings  of  infinite  wisdom,  the  solemn  commands  of 
the  Divine  Redeemer.  O,  cowardly  audacity !  afraid  to  incur  the 
world's  petty  frown,  and  not  afraid  to  displease  God ! 

How  the  impulse  of  the  preacher  breaks  into  the  course 
of  the  teaching  here  !     But  who  would  have  it  otherwise  ? 
There   is   nothing  perfunctory,   nothing  merely  customary, 
professional,  in  this  digression  into  homily.     It  was  not  the 
specialist  that  spoke;  it  was  the  man;  but  above  all  it  was 
the  Christian.     We  need  to  remember  how  naturally  high- 
spirited  the  Southern-bred  writer  was,  in  order  to  appreci- 
ate  at   its   value   such   passionate   enforcement,   proceeding 
1  from  him,  of  the  Christian  duty  of  meekness.     But  observe 
I  the  absence  of  strain,  of  excess,  in  the  doctrine.     Wise  con- 
cession is  made  in  favor  of  sternness  exercised  when  just 
occasion  requires  sternness.     The  emphasis  however  is  left 
to  rest,  finally  and  decisively,  on  the  unworldly,  the  high, 
the  difficult,  the  Christian,  virtue,  grace  rather,  of  meekness. 
Those  who  truly  knew  Dr.  Broadus  in  his  personal  charac- 
ter, will  easily  find  that  character  deeply  illustrated  in  this 
single    passage    of    his    writing.     It    is    noteworthy    that, 
although  the  plan  of  the  commentary  provides  a  place  for 
what  is   "  Practical   and    Homiletical "    under   that  express 
title,  the  remarks  above  quoted  occur,  not  in  a  part  so  des- 
ignated,  but   in  the   course   of   general  exposition.    It  be- 
longed to  the  intimate  character  of  the  Christian  that  Dr. 
Broadus   was,   to   be   everywhere   and    always   overmaster- 
/ingly  intent  on  increasing  the  sum  of  the  authentic  spirit 
I  of  Christ  in  the  world.     That  motive  makes  itself  felt  per- 
/  vasively  —  not    obtrusively,    but    pervasively  —  in    all    the 
)  product  of  his  pen.     The  Christian  in  him  summed  up  at  once 
j  the  scholar,  the  preacher,  the  teacher,  the  man  of  affairs,  the 
'  man. 

It  would  be  in  a  true  accord  with  the  character  and  career 


2;j2  MASTERS  OF.  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

of  the  subject  of  this  paper,  if  the  paper  itself  should  subor- 
dinate its  memorial  purpose  to  the  practical  use  of  contrib- 
uting something  to  the  end  for  which  Dr.  Broadus's  exem- 
plary life  was  lived.  The  present  writer  would  himself 
feel,  and  he  would,  if  he  could,  have  every  reader  feel,  that 
the  achievement  here  celebrated  was  real  achievement,  and 
not  a  mere  easy  felicity  of  nature.  Dr.  Broadus  became 
what  he  was;  became  it,  because,  first,  he  had  a  peculiarly 
fine  and  high  conception  of  the  demand  made  by  Christ  upon 
the  Christian,  and  because,  secondly,  he  put  forth  peculiarly 
ardent  and  peculiarly  constant  and  sustained  conscious 
effort  to  answer  fully  the  demand  thus  transcendently  con- 
ceived. His  method  was  the  simple  method,  the  humble 
method,  of  obedience.  Christ  was  literally  his  Master.  He 
^  sought  to  bring  every  thought  of  his  mind,  every  feeling  of 
his  heart,  every  word  of  his  mouth,  every  deed  of  his  hand, 
captive  to  the  obedience  of  Christ.  The  result  was  what  we 
saw  in  Dr.  Broadus.  It  was  not  a  goodness  and  a  beauty 
to  excite  our  admiration  and  despair.  It  was  a  goodness 
and  a  beauty  to  excite  us  to  admire,  and  to  emulate,  with 
hope.  But  we  should  not  wisely  admire,  we  should  not 
fruitfully  emulate,  if  we  fixed  our  eyes  only  on  the  result 
that  he  achieved,  and  failed  to  observe  the  method  that  he 
pursued  in  achieving  it. 


XV 

DWIGHT  LYMAN  MOODY 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

The  following  criticism  was  written  and  published  in 
1898.  Mr.  Moody  was  still  living,  and,  so  far  as  was  known 
or  suspected  by  the  public,  was  still  in  the  unbroken  vigor  of 
his  powers.  But  within  two  or  three  years  from  that  time 
he  had  finished  his  arduous  labors  and  had  entered  into  rest. 

As  to  the  question  of  the  persistence  without  diminution  of 
his  popular  attractiveness,  something  was  said,  in  the  opening 
of  the  criticism,  on  the  authority  of  a  man  high  in  position 
who  had  apparent  means  of  knowing  from  personal  observa- 
tion whereof  he  affirmed,  which,  however,  called  out  from 
another  man,  ostensibly  not  less  well-informed,  a  courteous 
note  to  the  author  alleging  that  Tremont  Temple  was  in 
fact,  to  his  certain  knowledge,  not  once  filled  full,  as  de- 
scribed to  me  by  my  informant,  with  an  audience  assembled 
to  hear  Mr.  Moody.  As  these  two  gentlemen  were  officially 
related  to  one  another,  and  therefore  presumably  well  ac- 
quainted, I  wrote  to  each  of  them,  hoping  that  they  might  by 
mutual  conference  be  enabled  to  bear  agreeing  testimony  on 
the  point  involved.  From  the  former  I  received  a  note  of 
confirmation  for  the  statement  I  had  made  on  his  authority ; 
from  the  latter  I  have,  up  to  the  moment  of  writing  the 
present  note  of  introduction,  heard  nothing  in  reply  to  my 
inquiry.  I  leave  my  original  statement  unchanged,  but  I 
thought  it  due  to  fairness  to  note  this  conflict  of  testimony. 


375 


DWIGHT   LYMAN   MOODY 

If  a  series  of  papers  in  homiletic  criticism  should  be  col- 
lected in  a  volume  bearing,  for  instance,  the  title,  "  Some 
Preachers  of  To-day  and  Yesterday,"  would  the  list  of  preach- 
ers treated  seem  reasonably  complete,  if  it  did  not  include 
the  name  of  Dwight  L.  Moody  ?  I  feel  at  once  that  the  uni- 
versal answer  to  this  question  would  be,  No.  But  ought  his 
name  to  be  included  as  that  of  a  preacher  of  to-day,  or  as 
that  of  a  preacher  of  yesterday?  He  is  indeed  still  living 
and  still  preaching,  but  has  not  his  day  of  power  gone  by? 
Is  he  not  to  be  numbered  among  the  preachers  of  yesterday, 
rather  than  among  the  preachers  of  to-day? 

It  is  not  I  that  raise  this  doubt.  The  doubt  has  been 
raised  for  me  in  comment  that  has  lately  started,  tho  it  has 
not  yet  gone  far,  in  the  newspaper  world.  Where  the  doubt 
was  first  raised,  it  seemed  to  be  resolved  in  a  sense  unfavor- 
able to  Mr.  Moody's  continuing  hold  on  public  attention.  But 
is  it  true  that  this  great  preacher,  at  sixty  years  of  age  and 
more,  has  already  done  his  work  and  declined  from  the 
meridian  of  his  power?  An  incident  in  my  own  recent  per- 
sonal experience  settled  the  point  for  me,  and  settled  it  in  a 
sense  decisively  opposed  to  those  conclusions  of  the  news- 
paper press  to  which  allusion  has  been  made.  Mr.  Moody  is, 
I  fully  believe,  still  among  us  in  a  degree  of  ability  to  affect 
the  public  mind  no  whit  diminished  from  what  it  was  in  the 
prime  vigor  of  his  manhood.  Is  there  any  other  preacher  liv- 
ing, on  either  side  of  the  Atlantic,  who  could,  by  the  mere 
announcement  that  at  a  given  midday  hour  of  a  given  busi- 
ness day  he  was  to  speak  on  a  given  religious  subject,  call  out 
a  multitude  of  people  numerous  enough  to  fill,  to  overfill  and 
overflow,  the  most  spacious  auditorium  in  the  city  of 
Chicago?    But  that  not  long  ago  happened  under  my  own 

376 


DWIGHT  LYMAN  MOODY  yj7 

observation  in  the  case  of  Mr,  Moody.  Of  course,  it  was  not 
mere  curiosity  to  see  and  hear  for  once  a  celebrated  man  that 
drew  those  throngs  of  eager  people  together.  Mr.  Moody 
had  been  for  many  years  a  familiar  figure  in  Chicago.  Be- 
yond doubt,  the  great  majority  of  his  immense  congregation 
had  seen  and  heard  Mr.  Moody  before.  It  was  because  they 
had  seen  and  heard  him  before,  that  they  wished  now  to  see 
him  and  hear  him  yet  again  —  this,  far  rather  than  because 
they  were  intent  on  gratifying  an  idle  curiosity.  While  I 
write  this,  I  am  told  that,  in  Boston,  Tremont  Temple  is 
always  filled  to  its  utmost  capacity  whenever  Mr.  Moody  is 
advertised  to  speak  there.  My  informant,  a  gentleman  who 
has  his  office  in  the  same  building,  and  who  therefore  could 
testify  from  immediate  knowledge,  does  not  doubt  that  the 
Temple  would  thus  be  filled  five  times  a  day  if  Mr.  Moody 
was  to  speak  there  five  times  a  day.  Statements  entirely  sim- 
ilar could  justly  be  made  with  reference  to  hundreds  of  large 
cities  in  every  quarter  of  the  English-speaking  world. 

A  public  speaker  of  whom  things  like  these  can  be  said,  and 
said  truly,  has  assuredly  not  yet  lost  his  command  of  the  pop- 
ular ear,  has  not  yet  lost  his  power  over  the  popular  heart. 
It  is  in  the  most  real  sense  a  topic  of  living  interest,  to  study 
and  to  try  to  understand  the  phenomenon  presented  to  us  in 
the  character  and  the  career  of  this  noble  herald  of  the 
Gospel. 

In  the  case  of  Mr.  Moody,  the  keeping  is  perfect  between 
the  man  as  he  appears  in  his  printed  books  and  the  man  as  he 
appears  in  the  pulpit.  In  whichever  of  these  two  aspects  he 
presents  himself  to  your  notice,  an  ample,  a  sturdy,  an  unaf- 
fected, a  sincere,  an  earnest,  an  aggressive,  a  quite  indom- 
itable, even  a  somewhat  domineering,  personality  confronts 
you.  Impression  of  personality  is  by  no  means  wholly  due 
to  personal  appearance;  tho  in  this  matter  personal  appear- 
ance counts  for  much.  Years  ago,  before  Mr.  Moody's  long 
tenure  of  high  estimation  with  the  public  had  begun  to  en- 
force upon  everybody  a  certain  respectful  reserve  in  speaking 
of  him,  a  cultivated,  and  not  wholly  unsympathetic,  tho  crit- 


378  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

ical  and  condescending,  writer  in  "  The  Unitarian  Review  " 
thus  described  the  personal  appearance  of  the  then  much 
younger  evangelist,  together  with  the  general  impression  that 
he  made  on  such  an  observer :  "  A  man  big-bodied,  short- 
necked,  heavy-faced,  harsh-voiced,  of  no  culture  such  as  col- 
leges and  books  supply,  poor  in  grammar,  poorer  in  pronun- 
ciation, and  poverty  is  not  the  v^rord  to  describe  his  lack  of 

grace  in  manner.     But "    Twenty  subsequent  years  of 

development  and  unsurpassed  opportunities  of  conversance 
with  men  and  of  experience  in  the  conduct  of  affairs,  have 
transformed  the  subject  of  this  description  into  a  personage 
of  whom  no  one  would  longer  think  of  using  such  language. 
Still  even  now,  unrefined  is  another  adjective  that  one  feels 
tempted  to  apply;  but  that  adjective  might  easily  communi- 
cate a  wrong  impression.  It  is  not  exactly  lack  of  refine- 
ment that  you  feel  in  Mr.  Moody ;  it  is  lack  of  culture  and  of 
that  peculiar  amenity  which  only  culture  can  impart.  It 
would  not  be  too  much  to  say  that  of  distinctive  literary 
charm,  unless  perfect  clearness  be  charm,  or  of  distinctive 
oratoric  charm,  unless  abounding  energy  be  charm,  there  is 
not  in  Mr.  Moody  a  discoverable  trace.  To  assert  this  is  not 
detraction  from  his  merit ;  it  is  addition  rather.  It  is  in  spite 
of  the  absence  of  these  things  in  him  that  he  makes  his  way 
with  the  public.  Nay,  it  almost  comes  about  at  last  that  it  is 
on  account  of  the  absence  of  these  things.  You  read  or  you 
listen,  and  you  unconsciously  say  to  yourself:  "Here  is  a 
man  that  practises  no  arts.  He  only  speaks  right  on."  You 
are  at  once  and  completely  thrown  off  guard,  if  you  had 
come  to  his  audience,  whether  of  the  book  or  of  the  plat- 
form, bringing  with  you  any  disposition  to  subject  him  to 
criticism  and  to  judge  him  by  rules.  He  does  not  challenge 
admiration ;  and  you  are  not  drawn  aside  from  his  purpose  to 
consider  whether  or  not  he  be  worthy  of  admiration.  He 
has  grappled  you  unawares. 

I  set  it  down,  therefore,  as  the  most  characteristic  and 
the  most  salient  trait  of  Mr.  Moody's  preaching,  and  the  main 
merely  natural  secret  of  his  power,  that  he  puts  no  barrier  of 


DWIGHT  LYMAN  MOODY  379 

charm  between  himself  and  his  audience.  Now,  Mr.  Spur- 
geon,  too,  was  a  very  direct  speaker.  But  he  had  a  true  feel- 
ing of  style.  It  was  with  him  both  an  instinctive  and  a  culti- 
vated feeling.  He  chose  his  words.  He  loved  rhythm  in 
his  sentences.  You  could  separate  yourself  from  what  he 
said,  to  observe  how  he  was  saying  it.  You  could  admire 
and  enjoy  his  voice  and  his  management  of  his  voice.  A  dis- 
course from  him  might  become  to  the  hearer  a  matter  of  cool 
and  disinterested  observation,  for  purposes  of  critical  judg- 
ment. Not  so  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Moody.  Mr.  Moody's  voice 
is  strong,  but  it  is  not  noticeably  musical,  and  he  does  not 
manage  it  noticeably  well.  He  possesses  little  instinctive  fine 
sense  to  guide  him  in  the  choice  of  words.  He  has  no  ear 
for  balance  or  for  cadence  in  his  periods.  In  short,  a  more 
entire  neglect  of  form  it  would  be  impossible  to  imagine  than 
is  nearly  everywhere  exemplified  in  Mr.  Moody.  Mere  neg- 
lect, it  is ;  not  superiority,  not  disdain ;  or  rather  it  is  sincere 
insensibility,  unconsciousness  —  incapacity,  one  almost  feels 
like  saying. 

Having  set  down  thus  much  about  Mr.  Moody's  indiffer- 
ence to  beauty  in  form,  his  habitual  sheer  homeliness,  I  recur 
to  that  volume  of  his  works  (as  these  are  presented  by  his 
authorized  publishers,  the  Fleming  H.  Revell  Company) 
which  bears  the  title  "  Heaven,"  and,  lighting  upon  the  fol- 
lowing passage  with  others  like  it,  feel  half  reproved  for 
■what  I  have  said.    Does  not  this  well-nigh  confute  me? 

"  I  have  read  that  on  the  shores  of  the  Adriatic  Sea  the  wives 
of  fishermen,  whose  husbands  have  gone  far  out  upon  the  deep, 
are  in  the  habit  of  going  down  to  the  seashore  at  night  and  sing- 
ing with  their  sweet  voices  the  first  verse  of  some  beautiful  hymn. 
After  they  have  sung  it  they  listen  until  they  hear  brought  on  the 
wind,  across  the  sea,  the  second  verse  sung  by  their  brave  hus- 
bands as  they  are  tossed  by  the  gale  —  and  both  are  happy.  Per- 
haps if  we  would  listen,  we  too  might  hear,  on  this  storm-tossed 
world  of  ours,  some  sound,  some  whisper,  borne  from  afar  to 
tell  us  there  is  a  heaven  which  is  our  home ;  and  when  we  sing 
our  hymns  upon  the  shores  of  earth,  perhaps  we  may  hear  their 


380         MASTERS  OF.  PULPIZ  DISCOURSE 

sweet  echoes  breaking  in  music  upon  the  sands  of  time,  and 
cheering  the  hearts  of  those  who  are  pilgrims  and  strangers 
along  the  way.  Yes,  we  need  to  look  up  —  out,  beyond  this  low 
earth,  and  to  build  higher  in  our  thoughts  and  actions,  even  here." 

Assuredly  in  such  a  passage  as  the  foregoing,  the  indefeas- 
ible charm  of  his  subject  —  a  subject,  by  the  way,  which  has 
become  nearly  obsolete  in  the  preaching  of  the  present  —  has 
cast  a  spell  upon  this  plain,  blunt  man  to  make  him  feel,  and 
therefore  speak,  like  a  poet. 

The  result  of  Mr.  Moody's  prevailing  inattention  to  form 
is  that  his  thought  and  feeling  are  presented  to  his  audience 
as  it  were  unclothed  —  at  least,  in  a  state  in  which  form 
counts  for  nothing.  It  is  a  paradox  to  say  so,  but  this  ex- 
treme homeliness  works  as  a  positive  advantage  in  Mr. 
Moody's  favor.  For  what  Mr.  Moody  wants,  is  your  vote 
for  his  cause,  and  not  your  approval  of  his  sermon.  His 
carelessness  of  form  emphasizes  to  you  his  singleness  of  pur- 
pose ;  and  singleness  of  purpose  in  an  orator  is  far  more  elo- 
quent than  eloquence. 

After  being  disarmed  and  captured  by  the  preacher's  pure 
singleness  of  purpose,  demonstrating  itself  in  the  absolute 
amorphousness  of  his  style,  you  next  begin  to  notice  the  vol- 
ume, the  abundance,  of  his  matter.  He  always  has  some- 
^v  thing  to  say.  His  mouth  is  filled  with  utterance.  There 
seems  to  be  a  pressure  behind  his  speech  as  of  things  crowd- 
ing forward  in  emulous  eagerness  to  be  said.  This  might 
partly  account  for  the  rough-and-tumble  of  his  sentences. 
But  the  better  account  has  already  been  given.  True,  there 
does  not  lack  here  and  there  the  evidence  of  a  mind  subject 
to  breaks  in  its  readiness  to  deliver  itself  of  its  message. 
Frequent  repetitions  occur  —  repetitions  not  apparently  de- 
signed, and  certainly  not  adapted,  to  produce  an  effect  of 
emphasis.  They  betoken  perhaps  a  certain  mental  sluggish- 
ness obstructing  for  the  moment  the  outflow  of  the  thought; 
they  may  be  half-unconscious  devices  on  the  speaker's  part 
to  give  himself  a  chance  to  recall  what  he  will  next  say. 

It  is  partly  to  fulness  of  matter  in  the  preacher's  mind, 


DWIGHT  LYMAN  MOODY  381 

but  still  more  it  is  to  his  truly  remarkable  disregard  of  form, 
that  we  must  charge  the  absence  of  crises,  of  culminating 
efifects,  of  climaxes,  in  Mr.  Moody's  preaching.  Unless  the 
very  lack  of  art  is  itself  the  consummation  of  art  with  Mr. 
Moody,  then  Mr.  Moody  is  incomparably  the  most  artless 
preacher  in  the  world.  Few,  indeed,  of  the  ordinary,  conven- 
tional, mere  rhetorical  or  oratorical  artifices  are  practised 
in  his  preaching.  There  is  scarcely  even  the  beginning,  mid- 
dle, and  end  of  a  discourse.  The  particular  sermon  is  apt  to 
be  like  so  much  preaching  cut  off  from  an  endless  reel  of 
such.  The  piece  cut  off  might  be  longer,  or  it  might  be 
shorter,  and  in  either  case  the  unity  and  the  completeness 
would  remain  unaffected.  The  conclusion  is  where  the 
preacher  stops,  not  where  the  treatment  has  reached  a  goal. 
This  does  not  mean  that  the  conclusion  is  ineffective.  On 
the  contrary,  it  is  thoroughly  adapted  to  the  practical  end  in 
view,  and  that  practical  end  is  the  right  practical  end  for  all 
preaching,  namely,  the  subduing  of  the  individual  will  to  the 
obedience  of  Christ.  Mr.  Moody  conceives  this  end  almost 
as  distinctly  as  did  Charles  G.  Finney  in  his  time.  Indeed, 
Mr.  Moody  would  seem  in  this  respect  to  have  derived  from 
Mr.  Finney,  whom  it  is  known  that  he  studies  with  delight, 
but  from  whom  in  most  other  respects  he  widely  differs. 
Finney  preached  the  law  with  appalling  power;  Mr.  Moody 
is  of  late  noticeably  tending  in  this  direction  —  but  for  the 
most  part,  it  has  been  love  and  grace  that  he  has  proclaimed. 
But  the  securing  of  obedience  from  his  hearers  to  God  in 
Christ  is  his  chosen  end,  and  that  end  is  by  no  means  lost 
sight  of  in  the  conclusion  to  his  sermons.  The  conclusion  is 
only  not  led  up  to  as  to  a  goal  not  reached  before.  The  goal 
has  been  as  much  in  sight  all  the  way  as  it  is  when  the  ser- 
mon stops. 

Of  course,  the  sermon  which  has  no  definitely  marked 
stages  of  progress  toward  a  definitely  conceived  final  aim  — 
which,  in  fact,  is  often  distinctly  improgressive,  and  as  it 
were  circular  in  movement  —  lacks  one  very  important  ele- 
ment of  power.    The  sense  of  advance,  the  prospect  of  arri- 


382  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

val,  are  two  supports  to  the  orator  with  his  hearers,  which 
can  not  be  disregarded  without  real  loss  to  the  ultimate  effect. 
It  is  the  lack  of  predetermined  plan  on  Mr.  Moody's  part  that 
gives  the  character  now  described  to  his  sermons.  It  is  a 
part  of  that  general  formlessness  which  has  here  been  pro- 
nounced so  characteristic  a  trait  of  his  preaching.  Occasion- 
ally, indeed,  there  is  evinced  a  certain  instinct  in  him  leading 
to  quest  of  something  like  analysis  for  his  discourse.  For 
instance,  in  treating  the  passage  in  Galatians  in  which  are 
enumerated  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  as  "  love,  joy,  peace,  long- 
suffering,  gentleness,  goodness,  faith,  meekness,  temperance," 
he  divides  these  nine  graces  inlo  three  groups  of  three  each, 
remarking  that  "love,  peace,  and  joy  are  all  to  God";  that 
"  goodness,  longsuffering,  and  gentleness  are  toward  man  " ; 
that  "  faith,  temperance,  meekness  are  in  relation  to  our- 
selves"  ("Secret  Power,"  pp.  78,  79).  You  might  suppose 
that  this  division  forecast  a  threefold  treatment  to  follow,  of 
his  theme,  which  he  entitles  "  Power  in  Operation."  But,  in 
fact,  nothing  whatever  is  done  except  with  the  first  group,  in 
treating  which,  quite  unmindful  that  "  love  "  has  been  said  by 
him  to  be  "  all  to  God,"  he  makes  it  an  exercise  toward  man 
as  well  as  God,  quoting  the  Savior's  words,  "  By  this  shall  all 
men  know  that  ye  are  my  disciples,  if  ye  have  love  one 
toward  another." 

I  am  far  from  praising  the  formlessness  which  I  neverthe- 
less feel  the  necessity  of  thus  pointing  out.  It  is  in  itself  by 
no  means  admirable.  But  the  fact  that,  without  analysis  — 
so  needful  to  most  public  speakers  as  a  means  of  command- 
ing material,  not  less  than  of  arranging  material  — Mr. 
Moody  is  able  to  abound  unfailingly  in  useful  things  to  say  — 
this,  rightly  considered,  serves  to  make  the  more  conspicu- 
ously signal  his  truly  extraordinary  fertility  of  homiletic  re- 
source. Extraordinary,  I  call  this  fertility;  I  mean  that  it 
is  extraordinary  when  the  evident  narrowness  of  the  preach- 
er's culture  is  duly  taken  into  account.  John  Bunyan  was  a 
preacher  and  a  writer  as  far  removed  from  bookishness  as 
probably  ever  was  any  man  that  has  preached  and  written. 


DIVIGIIT  LYMAN  SlOODY  383 

It  can  not  be  said  that  Mr.  Moody  is  his  peer  in  this  respect ; 
but  he  does  not  come  very  much  short  of  it.  It  is  probable 
that  Bunyan  was  not  altogether  unread  in  the  religious  litera- 
ture of  his  time.  The  Puritan  writers  must,  one  would  say, 
have  nourished  the  illiterate  tinker's  mind  and  heart.  So 
there  are  indications  in  Mr.  Moody's  preaching  that  he  is  not 
unacquainted  with  the  books  produced  by  the  Plymouth 
brethren.  If  this  conclusion  is  rightly  inferred,  he  would 
seem  to  have  profited  from  what  is  good  in  those  books,  at 
the  same  time  that  his  strong  common  sense,  his  ineradicable 
love  of  the  concrete  and  the  intelligible,  and  his  eager  evan- 
gelistic zeal,  have  guarded  him  against  suffering  ill  effect 
from  the  nebulous  incoherences  and  allegorizing  excesses 
into  which  those  books  naturally  tend  to  run.  With  the  ex- 
ceptions suggested,  there  are  very  few  traces,  either  open  or 
concealed,  in  his  sermons,  of  the  influence  of  literature  on  his 
mind.  His  intellectual  product  is  almost,  of  course  not  quite, 
such  as  one  may  imagine  that  it  would  have  been,  had  no  lit- 
erature in  any  language  ever  existed.  Of  course  not  quite, 
I  say,  because  unavoidably  Mr.  Moody,  like  men  in  general, 
has,  even  when  not  meaning  it,  and  sometimes  without  know- 
ing it,  received  a  great  deal  of  light  into  his  mind  reflected 
and  refracted  from  every  quarter  of  the  world  in  which  he 
has  lived,  and  that  world  necessarily  includes  literature. 

I  have  expressed  myself  too  absolutely.  Both  Bunyan 
and  Moody,  altho  indeed  not  men  of  books,  are  eminently 
and  emphatically  men  of  a  book  —  the  Bible.  To  be  sure, 
the  Book  now  named  is  such  in  its  makeup  that  it  may  fairly 
be  described  as  a  library  and  a  literature  in  itself.  It  is  a 
collection  of  books,  rather  than  a  book.  But  call  it  book  or 
collection  of  books,  the  Bible  is  Mr.  Moody's  prime  source  of 
material,  as  it  is  his  prime  manual  of  mental  discipline.  Mat- 
thew Arnold,  if  I  remember  right,  it  was,  who  said  strikingly 
that  a  man,  if  he  knew  only  the  Bible,  could  not  know  that. 
There  is  truth  in  the  saying;  but  its  truth  is  far  more  ap- 
plicable when  the  question  is  of  scientific  mastery,  than  when 
the  question  is  of  mastery  for  religious  and  practical  pur- 


384  MASTERS'OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

poses.  For  homiletic  use,  for  spiritual  impression,  Mr. 
Moody  knows  his  Bible  well  —  better,  indeed,  than  he  would 
know  it  if  speculation  and  conjecture,  calling  themselves 
science,  had  intervened  to  cloud  his  vision  and  to  unsettle  his 
sense  of  certainty.  He  knows  his  Bible  by  inward  personal 
experience.  He  has  had,  and  he  has,  a  personal  experience 
of  sin.  He  thus  knows  the  Bible  teaching  about  sin  in  a 
sense  immeasurably  more  profound  than  is  possible  to  the 
scientific  student  of  Scripture  who  is  concerned  only  to  find 
out  what  the  Scripture  writers  meant  by  the  word  "  sin " 
when  they  used  it.  He  has  had,  and  he  has,  a  personal  ex- 
perience of  Divine  forgiveness,  of  imparted  peace  with  God, 
and  he  thus  knows  how  it  is  that  God  for  Christ's  sake  for- 
gives sin,  how  it  is  that  we  may  have  peace  with  God  through 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  or,  if  no  one  can  truly  be  said  to  know 
these  mysteries,  Mr.  Moody  at  least  knows  that  these  mys- 
teries are,  in  some  experiences,  facts;  and  that  knowledge  is 
a  thing  beyond  the  grasp  of  the  merely  scientific  mind.  The 
Bible  teaching  about  One  that  suffered,  the  Just  for  the  un- 
just, that  He  might  bring  us  to  God,  Mr.  Moody  knows  as 
only  he  can  know  it  who  has  had  the  experience  of  being 
himself  brought,  tho  unjust,  to  God  by  the  sufferings  of  the 
Just.  What  is  deepest,  most  fundamental,  most  vital,  in  the 
Bible,  Mr.  Moody  knows,  and  knows  it  in  the  only  possible 
way  of  knowing  it  —  by  intimate  personal  experience  of  his 
own. 

The  Bible  thus  known  furnishes  to  Mr.  Moody  the  fund, 
the  inexhaustible  fund,  on  which  he  unlimitedly  draws  for 
the  material  of  his  preaching.  But  it  is  the  Bible  penetrated, 
interfused,  as  it  were  qualified,  with  the  quality  of  the  man. 
That  is,  he  preaches  the  Bible  as  he  understands  the  Bible. 
It  would  not  be  far  wrong  to  say  that  he  preaches  his  own 
vital  experience  of  the  Bible. 

Such  preaching  is  indescribably  potent.  Coleridge  said  a 
characteristic  memorable  thing,  in  saying  of  the  Bible  that  to 
him  it  authenticated  itself  as  from  God  because  it  "  found  " 
him  as  did  no  other  book.    The  Bible,  taken  up  in  an  indi- 


DWIGHT  LYMAN  MOODY  385 

vidual  human  experience  such  as  Mr.  Moody's,  and  sincerely 
and  simply  so  preached,  has  a  finding  power  for  the  average 
man  beyond  what  can  be  accounted  for  on  any  theory  of  mere 
eloquence.  A  phrase  is  here  naturally  called  to  mind,  which 
much  use,  say  rather  final  misuse,  has  made  seem  now  al- 
most like  cant  —  Mr.  Moody  has  "experienced  religion," 
the  religion  of  the  Bible.  The  phrase  thus  quoted  is  really 
a  fine  phrase  to  describe  such  a  fact  as  exists  in  the  case  of 
Mr.  Moody.  He  has  experienced  religion,  and  it  is  the  re- 
ligion experienced  by  him  that  he  preaches.  His  preaching 
is  scriptural,  but  it  is  also  as  much  experimental  as  it  is 
scriptural.  In  truth,  a  barbarous  compound  adjective  is  jus- 
tified here :  Mr.  Moody's  preaching  is  scriptural-experimen- 
tal. The  two  qualities  are  inseparably  fused  together  into  one 
quality  which  our  coined  compound  adjective  describes. 

It  does  not  necessarily  follow,  but  it  is  nevertheless  the 
fact,  that  as  Mr.  Moody's  preaching  is  in  substance  script- 
ural, so  it  is  in  method  expository.  He  is  no  such  trained 
and  infallible  exegete  as  Dr.  Alexander  McLaren.  Far  from 
it.  Mr.  Moody  expounds  the  English  Bible,  not  the  original 
text.  It  would  be  strange  if  a  Bible  student  with  no  more 
scientific  equipment  than  he  possesses,  should  not  sometimes 
miss  a  point  in  exposition.  But  the  point  missed  will  with 
Mr.  Moody  be  found  an  incidental  point;  perhaps,  indeed,  a 
point  not  to  be  called  quite  incidental  as  affecting  the  particu- 
lar text  in  question,  but  incidental  and  unimportant  as  affect- 
ing the  main  truth  of  Bible  teaching. 

I  have  said  that  the  prime  source  of  Mr.  Moody's  abundant 
supply  of  material  for  preaching  is  the  Bible.  I  have  indi- 
cated also  how  large  is  the  contribution  of  material  furnished 
from  his  own  individual  inward  experience.  But,  subordi- 
nately  to  his  own  inward  experience  —  if  I  should  not  say 
rather  coordinately  and  equally  with  that  —  his  outward 
experience,  in  contact  with  men,  and  in  shrewd  but  sympa- 
thetic observation  of  their  endlessly  varying  ways,  is  an  in- 
exhaustible resource  to  this  most  practical  of  preachers.  "  I 
remember  a  man  in  Dublin,"  "  A  man  came  to  me  in  New 
Y 


386         MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

York,"  or  some  such  simple  formula  of  words,  introduces  an 
incident  the  relation  of  which  enlivens  discourse  with  some- 
thing of  narrative  interest,  at  the  same  time  that  the  inculca- 
tion contained  is  all  the  more  effectively,  because  thus  in- 
directly, conveyed.  The  immense  range  and  variety  of  Mr. 
Moody's  conversational  contact  with  people  of  every  con- 
ceivable sort,  keeps  his  quiver  unfailingly  full  of  apt  and 
telling  illustrations.  And  never,  I  venture  to  say,  by  any 
preacher  has  anecdotical  illustration  been  kept  more  severely 
to  its  proper  purpose  —  that  of  rendering  truth  clear  or  ren- 
dering it  forcible  —  than  is  done  in  the  practice  of  Mr. 
Moody.  It  would  not  be  easy  to  find  in  his  reported  dis- 
courses any  instance  of  a  story  told  by  him  just  to  entertain 
an  audience;  tho  on  the  other  hand  he  might  by  apparent 
exception  sometimes  so  resort  to  a  story,  when  it  seemed 
necessary  in  order  to  rouse  flagging  attention  or  quiet  some 
beginning  disorder  in  a  great  congregation. 

Mr.  Moody,  by  the  way,  knows  the  homiletic  value  of 
mirth.  He  does  not  scruple  to  provoke  a  smile  upon  occasion, 
or  even  a  ripple  of  laughter.  But  he  then  keeps  his  audience 
perfectly  in  hand.  The  amused  moment  passes  instantly.  It 
is  at  once  turned  to  serious  account.  It  is  never  allowed  to 
degenerate  into  self-indulgence,  either  on  the  speaker's  part 
or  on  the  part  of  the  audience.  In  short,  Mr.  Moody's  play  of 
humor,  occasional  and  infrequent,  is,  like  everything  else  in 
his  speaking,  held  strictly  subordinate  and  helpful  to  his  main 
earnest  purpose.  It  is  fair  to  note  that  this  exemplary  self- 
control  on  Mr.  Moody's  part  has  grown  more  and  more  per- 
fect with  his  advancing  years  —  not  apparently  because  the 
fountain  of  mirthful  feeling  in  him  has  in  any  degree  failed, 
but  only  because  he  conscientiously  holds  the  outflow  of  it 
more  in  check. 

It  need  hardly  be  said  that  a  power  of  pathos  accompanies 
the  power  of  humor  in  Mr.  Moody.  As  a  general  law,  smiles 
and  tears  are  likely  to  be  both  equally  at  the  same  speaker's 
command.  But  pathos  is  much  more  pervasive  in  Mr. 
Moody's  discourse  than  is  humor.    It  could  not  be  otherwise ; 


DIVIGHT  LYMAN  MOODY  387 

for  in  a  world  of  sin,  and  of  redemption  from  sin  by  the 
cross,  the  really  sympathetic,  earnest  soul  will  in  preaching 
find  occasions  provocative  of  tears  more  plentiful  by  far  than 
occasions  provocative  of  laughter. 

I  was  instinctively  led  to  speak  of  Mr.  Moody  as  "  keep- 
ing his  audience  well  in  hand."  That  form  of  expression  is 
somewhat  accurately  descriptive  of  his  habitual  relation  to 
his  audience.  Some  orators  are  the  creatures,  the  playthings, 
of  their  hearers.  You  feel  that  they  wish,  that  they  supreme- 
ly wish,  to  please  those  to  whom  they  speak.  This  is  espe- 
cially true  of  actors,  who  live  in  the  pleasure  of  their  audi- 
ences. It  is  true  in  a  degree  of  every  orator  that  stands  to 
his  audience  at  all  in  the  relation  of  actor  or  entertainer. 
Such  an  orator  may  sometimes  seem  to  "  carry  away  "  his 
hearers,  but  the  conquest  is  largely  fallacious;  he  wins  it  by 
giving  his  hearers  what  his  hearers  desire.  More  rarely,  far 
more  rarely,  an  orator  appears  who  dominates  his  audience  by 
a  true  ascendency  of  his  will  over  their  wills.  Such  an  orator 
if  we  may  trust  Thucydides's  representation  of  him,  was  the 
Greek  Pericles.  Such  an  orator  was  our  own  American  Web- 
ster. It  would  be  absurd  to  equal  Mr.  Moody  with  either 
of  these  two  great  orators  in  oratoric  genius.  But  it  seems 
to  me  a  fact  that  Mr.  Moody  resembles  them  in  instinctively 
and  unconsciously  asserting  himself  as  master  of  his  hearers. 
This  self-assertion  on  his  part  is  not  ostentatious,  it  is  not  ag- 
gressive, it  is  far  enough  from  arrogant,  it  is  perhaps  not 
very  noticeable  even ;  but  it  seems  to  me  very  real  neverthe- 
less, and  all  the  more  real  that  it  escapes  observation.  "  Give 
me  where  to  stand,"  said  Archimedes,  "  and  I  will  move  the 
earth."  Mr.  Moody  has  a  firm  standing-place,  "  the  impreg- 
nable rock  of  Holy  Scripture,"  and  he  occupies  it  immovably 
before  his  audience.  It  seems  easy  for  him,  and  natural,  to 
wield  his  audience  at  will.  Strong  personality,  force  of  char- 
acter, ascendent  will,  may  account  in  part  for  the  effect  ob- 
servable; it  does  in  part  account  for  it;  but  there  is  another 
element  of  power  present  and  active  in  Mr.  Moody's  work 
which  we  can  only  recognize  and  name  without  any  attempt 


388  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

to  analyze  and  explain  it  —  it  is  the  synergism,  the  coworlc- 
ing,  of  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God.  "  I  told  Mr.  Moody"  writes 
Dr.  R.  W.  Dale,  a  singularly  competent  observer  of  the 
evangelist's  -work  in  Birmingham,  England, — "  I  told  Mr. 
Moody  that  the  w^ork  was  most  plainly  of  God,  for  I  could  see 
no  real  relation  between  him  and  what  he  had  done.  He 
laughed  cheerily,  and  said  he  should  be  sorry  if  it  were  other- 
wise." ■ 

A  gentleman  who  knew  Mr.  Moody  from  the  start  in  Sun- 
day-school activity  of  his  evangelistic  work,  and  who  is  now 
one  of  the  merchant  princes  of  Chicago,  records  what  he  calls 
a  "  reliable  tradition  "  concerning  the  birth  of  that  spirit  in 
the  great  preacher  which,  more  than  anything  else  belonging 
to  him  that  can  be  named,  has  made  him  the  marvel  that  he 
is.  According  to  this  tradition,  young  Moody  heard  some 
one  say :  "  The  world  has  yet  to  see  what  one  man  wholly 
consecrated  to  God  can  do."  He  at  once  inwardly  responded : 
"  I  will  be  that  man."  The  story  of  his  life  would  seem 
legitimately  unfolded  from  the  germ  of  such  a  beginning  as 
that. 

In  a  book  entitled  "  D.  L.  Moody  at  Home,"  issued  by  the 
F.  H.  Revell  Company  —  tho  not  belonging  to  that  series  of 
ten  volumes  of  Mr.  Moody's  works  to  which  the  volume 
"  Heaven  "  already  alluded  to  belongs  —  is  contained  what 
may  be  called  a  spiritual  clinic  by  this  experienced  practi- 
tioner in  the  cure  of  souls,  constituting  as  there  published  two 
chapters  under  separate  titles.  The  reading  of  this  Northfield 
lecture  strengthens  the  impression  which  Mr.  Moody's  preach- 
ing everywhere  makes  of  the  enormous  advantage  for  pulpit 
or  platform  influence  secured  to  this  preacher  through  his 
varied  and  intimate  first-hand,  face-to-face,  heart-to-heart 
acquaintance  with  religious  human  nature  gained  in  the  in- 
quiry-room. To  treat  the  topic  thus  suggested,  as  also  to 
speak  adequately  of  Mr.  Moody's  wonderful  common  sense 
and  versatile  tact,  I  must  venture  now  to  go  forward  some- 
what as  if  I  were  considering  Mr.  Moody  less  as  preacher 
than  as  man  of  affairs. 


DWIGHT  LYMAN  MOODY  389 

Some  preachers  in  their  pulpits  immediately  impress  the 
observer  as  men  belonging  to  a  kind  of  extra-mundane  sphere 
of  things.  The  preachers  whom  I  have  now  in  mind  seem, 
on  entering  the  pulpit,  to  have  come  from  the  seclusion  of 
the  study.  They  bring  with  them  the  air  of  books.  Some- 
times to  this  appearance  of  the  scholar  they  superadd  an 
effect  of  peculiar  devoutness,  as  if  their  place  of  study  had 
been  to  them  also  a  place  of  prayer.  Such  an  aspect  as  I  thus 
indicate,  especially  if  it  be  characterized  by  the  trait  last 
mentioned,  has  its  value  for  useful  impression  on  an  audi- 
ence. But  such  an  aspect  Mr.  Moody  does  not  wear.  He 
looks  the  man  of  affairs  more  than  he  looks  the  preacher, 
far  more  than  he  looks  either  the  student  or  the  saint.  It  is 
true  that  the  unquestioned  real  devoutness  of  his  spirit  has 
induced  its  own  proper  expression  upon  his  features,  and  has 
to  some  degree  affected  his  whole  demeanor.  He  is  far  from 
repelling  you  by  anything  pronouncedly  business-like  and 
secular  in  his  personal  presence.  Indeed,  attentive  observa- 
tion discovers  a  serene  cast  of  countenance,  a  composure  of 
mien,  which,  if  they  do  not  irresistibly  suggest  a  habit  of 
communion  with  heaven,  at  least  are  in  perfect  harmony  with 
such  a  habit.  There  is  peace  as  well  as  power  in  the  eye. 
The  power  there  is  indeed  partly  a  power  of  peace.  Still,  the 
spiritual  air,  the  spell  of  obvious  sanctity,  is  not  immediately 
and  strongly  felt  in  him  by  the  observer.  He  appears,  tho 
not  worldly,  still  quite  a  man  of  this  world.  He  comes  for- 
ward, perhaps  making  some  little  arrangement  of  the  most 
commonplace  sort  for  the  comfort  and  convenience  of  his 
congregation.  You  are  completely  disabused  at  once  of  any 
notion  you  may  have  had  that  the  sermon  in  prospect  is  to  be 
some  solemn  ceremonial  thing  inaugurated  for  its  own  sake. 
This  preacher  is  something  besides  a  preacher.  He  is  mani- 
festly a  man  of  affairs.  If  you  inquire  in  the  right  quarter, 
you  learn  that  every  outward  detail  in  preparation  for  the 
occasion  in  progress  has  been  carefully  considered  before- 
hand ;  and  so  the  perfection  of  adaptedness,  which,  because  it 
is  perfection,  may  have  escaped  your  first  observation,  is  the 


390 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


result  not  of  happy  chance,  but  of  painstaking  shrewd  fore- 
thought and  provision  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Moody  himself. 

I  do  not  mean  that  every  detail  of  arrangement  receives  his 
personal  attention.  Mr.  Moody  w^orks  through  others ;  and  he 
knows  how  to  work  through  others,  for  he  knows  how  to 
choose  those  others  through  whom  he  will  work.  He  is  a 
general.  He  musters  forces,  and  then  he  marshals  the  forces 
that  he  has  mustered.  His  fame  for  doing  this  helps  him  do 
it.  I  remember  being  told  by  one  of  the  most  brilliantly  suc- 
cessful occasional  helpers  ever  brought  by  Mr.  Moody  to 
Northfield  for  his  summer  conferences,  that  he  was  partly 
attracted  to  come  by  the  desire  to  see  that  generalship  dis- 
played on  a  crowded  field  of  action  to  which  as  lecturer  he 
himself,  the  observer,  was  now  going  intelligently  and  loyal- 
ly to  submit.  Mr.  Moody  has  no  doubt  an  inborn  genius  for 
command ;  but  then  he  has  had  an  unsurpassed  opportunity  of 
discipline  to  command.  He  has  perfected  his  skill  in  the 
school  of  experience. 

He  began  crudely.  His  chief  first  equipment  was  unbound- 
ed energy,  unquenchable  zeal.  But  these  two  gifts  served  him 
wonderfully.  To  be  sure,  they  did  not  keep  him  from  mak- 
ing mistakes.  They  even  urged  him  into  activities  that  in  the 
judgment  of  some  —  and  those  not  certainly  all  of  them  dis- 
posed either  by  nature  or  by  habit  to  be  censorious  —  were 
ill-directed  and  rather  harmful  than  useful.  One  religious 
editor,  the  most  charitable  and  the  most  gentle-spoken  of  men, 
is  reported  to  have  said  of  Mr.  Moody,  in  this  early  period  of 
his  career,  that  he  was  "  instant  in  season "  and  —  out  of 
season;  more  often  out  of  season.  This  editorial  sentence 
offended  some  prophetically  believing  friends  of  the  yet  ob- 
scure Mr.  Moody  to  such  an  extent  that  they  long  refused  to 
read  the  newspaper  in  which  it  appeared.  He  commenced 
taking  part  in  prayer  and  conference  meetings  —  where  he 
had  to  be  checked.  At  least  he  was  there  checked,  and  for 
the  reason  that  his  participations  were  not  thought  to  be 
edifying.  He  taught  in  a  church  mission  Sunday-school, 
where,  having  been  first  told  that  there  was  no  class  for  him. 


DWIGHT  LYMAN  MOODY 


391 


he  had  met  that  discouragement  by  promptly  going  out  into 
the  streets  and  highways  and  bringing  in  a  class.  But  his 
ways  did  not  please  those  in  authority,  and  he  soon  withdrew 
and  built  up  an  independent  school  which  became  an  institu- 
tion of  national  celebrity.  This  Sunday-school  in  due  time 
developed  into  a  church,  the  Chicago  Avenue  Church,  popu- 
larly called  "  Mr.  Moody's  church,"  which  reckons  now  a 
membership  of  some  two  thousand  souls.  That  Sunday- 
school  was  Mr.  Moody's  first  practical  experiment  in  the  art 
of  organization  and  administration.  He  attracted  and 
selected  fellow  helpers  of  his  work.  The  attraction  that  he 
exerted  was  itself  a  process  of  selection.  Those  naturally 
rallied  to  his  side  who  would  be  his  fit  agents  and  auxiliaries. 

He  has  himself  told  us  that  his  earliest  wish  was  to  deal 
with  men  and  women,  not  with  children.  But  he  was  obliged 
to  begin  with  children.  Gradually  he  acquired  the  ability  to 
address  himself  with  success  to  those  older.  He  interested 
himself  in  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  and  be- 
came president  of  the  organization  as  it  existed  in  the  city 
of  Chicago.  He  found  increasingly  frequent  opportunities  to 
attend  Sunday-school  conventions  and  conventions  of  Young 
Men's  Christian  Associations  assembling  in  Illinois  and  in 
neighboring  States.  At  these  gatherings  he  speedily  won  a 
hearing  for  himself,  and  could  more  and  more  count  on  com- 
manding the  attention  of  the  public.  Everybody  knows  the 
world-wide  development  that  awaited  such  beginnings.  It 
is  part  of  the  history  of  the  nineteenth  century,  that  fruitful 
partnership  in  evangelism  which  joined  Mr.  Moody  and  Mr. 
Sankey  in  tours  of  preaching  and  singing  the  Gospel  that 
shook  not  only  the  United  States,  but  Great  Britain  also, 
more  profoundly,  and  more  widely,  than  could  the  progresses 
of  any  monarchs  on  earth. 

These  tours  were  not  improvised  affairs,  conducted  at 
haphazard  and  subject  to  uncalculated  chances.  They  were 
prearranged  and  provided  for  in  all  their  incidents,  with  as 
much  care  and  precaution  as  might  go  to  the  planning  of  a 
great  military  campaign.    The  places  ol  meeting,  the  days 


392  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

and  the  hours  of  meeting,  the  preliminary  announcements,  the 
seating  of  the  audience,  the  warming,  the  ventilation,  the 
distribution  of  tickets  in  cases  in  which  tickets  were  required, 
the  selection  of  local  coadjutors  —  all  these  things  were 
looked  out  for  with  the  most  sagacious  forethought,  the  most 
prudent  circumspection.  The  success  was  answerable.  It 
was,  in  fact,  overpoweringly  splendid.  The  fame  of  what 
was  accomplished  filled  the  world. 

That  proverbial  saying  which  Jesus  applied  to  himself  had 
previously  been  equally  applicable  to  Mr.  Moody;  but  the 
modern  prophet  who  was  so  long  without  honor  in  his  own 
city  could  return  to  Chicago  like  a  conqueror  celebrating  a 
triumph.  Cities  all  over  the  English-speaking  world  vied 
with  each  other  in  efforts  to  secure  the  services  of  Mr. 
Moody  as  preacher.  He  has,  in  fact,  appeared  in  person,  to 
preach  the  Gospel,  more  widely  than  perhaps  any  other 
preacher  since  Paul.  Whatever  foreshortenings  of  fame  may 
take  place  in  the  long  future  perspectives  of  history,  it  is  im- 
possible to  doubt  that  Mr.  Moody's  name  will  always  survive 
as  indestructibly  as  that  of  Peter  the  Hermit,  and  with  a  lus- 
ter of  renown  far  purer,  or,  at  least,  much  more  unmixedly 
beneficent,  than  belongs  to  that  far-heard  preacher  of  Cru- 
sades instead  of  the  Gospel. 

But  Mr.  Moody  ranks  with  that  class  of  generals  who  do 
not  simply  win  battles,  but  who  organize  victory.  In  the  first 
place,  he  early  learned  to  reap  and  to  garner  the  fruits  of  each 
particular  one  of  his  sermons.  This  he  did  by  instituting  and 
conducting  the  inquiry-meeting  as  sequel  to  every-  sermon 
preached.  Carrying  out  Christ's  figure  of  fishing  for  souls, 
he  called  the  work  of  the  inquiry-meeting,  "  drawing  the  net." 
He  threw  the  net  when  he  preached ;  he  drew  it  in  the  inquiry- 
meeting.  To  fail  to  draw  the  net  was  to  lose  the  catch  that  he 
had  made.  The  inquiry-meeting  was  managed  with  the  ut- 
most wise  attention  to  the  necessities  of  the  case.  Nothing 
was  left  to  chance.  All  was  ordered  beforehand  for  each  sev- 
eral occasion;  but  even  that  was  not  enough.  During  the 
occasion  a  vigilant  personal  lookout  was  constantly  main- 


DWIGHT  LYMAN  MOODY  393 

tained  by  Mr.  Moody  himself,  in  order  that  no  necessity  un- 
expectedly arising  should  be  left  unprovided  for. 

The  present  writer  has  very  recently  by  personal  observa- 
tion renewed  an  impression  taken  many  years  ago  of  Mr. 
Moody's  method  both  in  the  congregation  and  in  the  inquiry- 
room.  Either  Mr,  Moody  has,  through  longer  experience, 
become  still  more  watchful  and  still  more  skilful  than  he  was 
previously,  or  else  the  observer  on  his  part  was  better  quali- 
fied on  the  later  occasion  than  on  the  earlier  to  take  in 
understandingly  what  he  witnessed.  Certainly  it  was  a  most 
stimulating  spectacle  to  see  the  rnastership  of  assemblies 
displayed  by  Mr.  Moody  as  preacher  when  he  preached,  and 
then  afterward  the  generalship  in  action  displayed  by  him  as 
man  of  affairs  throughout  the  animated  spiritual  struggles  in 
close  quarters  of  the  inquiry-room.  While  the  audience  was 
gathering  and  getting  settled,  the  preacher's  eye  seemed  to 
note  each  individual  hearer  before  him  or  beside  him.  There 
was  no  effect  at  all  of  a  wandering  eye,  or  of  an  eye  engaged 
in  considering  what  numbers  were  there,  or  what  was  their 
collective  character.  In  short,  there  was  no  egoism  of  any 
sort  observable.  The  man  of  affairs  seemed  simply  to  be 
advising  and  preparing  the  preacher,  to  adapt  his  sermon  so 
as  to  meet  all  the  practical  demands  of  the  occasion,  and, 
"  making  a  difference,"  not  leave  any  single  hearer  present 
without  his  portion  in  due  season. 

While  the  sermon  was  in  progress,  a  sense  of  reality  com- 
municated itself  from  the  preacher  to  the  listener,  such  that 
no  spell  was  broken  when,  "  Will  the  ushers  please  open  the 
windows  and  let  in  a  little  fresh  air ;  it  is  getting  close  here," 
was  suddenly  interjected  into  the  preacher's  utterance.  He 
could  even  say,  "  You  are  getting  sleepy  while  I  am  talking 
to  you  about  assurance;  I  don't  want  you  to  think  it  is  be- 
cause I  am  a  dull  preacher,  you  need  some  fresh  air;"  then, 
after  a  few  minutes'  interval,  "  Shut  the  windows ;  I  see  they 
are  putting  on  their  wraps  " —  all  without  any  real  check  to 
the  wholesome  serious  effect  he  was  seeking  to  produce  and 
was  in  fact  producing.    There  would  be  a  slight  smile  of  re- 


394  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

sponsive  sympathy  to  the  gently  humorous  egotism  of  the 
preacher's  reference  to  his  own  preaching;  but  no  harmful 
diversion  of  thought  —  only  the  rally  intended,  to  attention 
seen  to  be  flagging.  It  was  the  man  of  affairs  seasonably  and 
helpfully  interrupting  the  preacher. 

In  the  inquiry-room,  the  same  vigilance  of  heed  to  existing 
conditions.  Doors  closed  against  further  ingress  after  the 
room  was  suitably  filled ;  the  appointed  helpers,  disposed  about 
the  room  with  particular  directions  given  in  an  undertone  to 
each;  a  short  familiar  talk  from  Mr.  Moody  addressed  col- 
lectively to  all  the  persons  present;  then  singing  started  at 
his  instance  by  a  select  number  of  trained  voices  —  with 
"  Just  as  I  am,"  etc.,  for  the  first  hymn  —  to  be  continued  in 
a  very  soft  and  gentle  tone  and  volume  of  sound  throughout 
the  entire  inquiry-season  —  the  idea  being  to  supply  a  kind 
of  medium,  sympathetic  in  its  nature  and  conducive  to  a  re- 
ligious frame  of  feeling,  in  which  conversations  of  one  with 
another  could  be  conducted,  with  a  certain  sense  of  privacy 
secured  to  each,  tho  carried  on  in  the  imminent  presence  of 
many,  who  but  for  the  accompaniment  of  music  might  be 
supposed  able  to  overhear.  Without  actual  observation  and 
experience  of  such  a  scene,  one  would  hardly  conceive  what 
a  help  to  the  general  effect,  and  to  the  particular  effects  as 
well,  was  contributed  by  that  interfused  and  circumfused  me- 
dium of  half-silent  sound  in  which  all  was  transacted. 

While  those  who  would  do  so  engaged  in  quiet  conversation 
one  with  another,  Mr.  Moody,  beginning  at  one  corner,  moved 
in  somewhat  regular  circuit  from  seat  to  seat  about  the  room, 
talking  very  briefly  with  each  inquirer  as  he  judged  fit  and 
requisite.  How  firmly  he  kept  his  lead  throughout,  a  single 
incident  will  illustrate.  This  incident  I  am  able  to  give  as  re- 
ported by  the  gentleman  himself  immediately  concerned.  He, 
tho  a  stranger  to  the  most  of  those  present,  was  minded  to  be 
useful,  and,  having  met  in  conversation  a  young  wife  who 
joyfully  testified  that  she  had  a  day  or  two  before  in  that  same 
series  of  meetings  found  a  Savior  in  Jesus,  he  undertook  to 
bring  her  and  her  husband  —  the  latter  not  yet  converted, 


DWIGHT  LYMAN  MOODY  395 

but  in  attendance  at  some  remove  from  herself  in  the  inquiry- 
room  —  into  personal  contact  with  Mr.  Moody.  Mr.  Moody 
having,  with  scarce  a  word  of  reply  to  his  suggestion,  made 
him  feel  —  and  this  without  offense  conveyed  —  that  he  him- 
self was  leader,  and  must  choose  his  own  and  not  another's 
order  of  proceeding,  imperturbably  pursued  the  course  in 
which  he  was  already  engaged ;  but  presently  meeting  with  a 
case  of  a  Christian  in  darkness  that  required  more  attention 
than  he  felt  himself  then  free  to  bestow,  he,  with  calm  as- 
sumption of  command,  beckoned  up  the  man  that  had  just 
sought  to  deflect  him  from  his  own  predetermined  plan  of 
campaign,  and  set  this  man  safely  at  work  where  he  at  least 
would  not  be  likely  to  repeat  his  attempt  at  well-meant  inter- 
ference. Mr.  Moody  is  nowhere  else  more  successfully  the 
man  of  affairs  than  in  the  inquiry-room.  This  can  not  too 
strongly  be  said;  but  the  guardian  statement  should  always 
be  added  that  also  he  is  nowhere  else  further  removed  from 
vulgar  egoism  and  from  the  trickery  of  such  as  make  of  re- 
vivalism a  trade. 

I  have  failed  at  an  important  point  in  my  representation  of 
Mr.  Moody,  if  I  have  not  already  made  appear  my  high  esti- 
mation of  his  endowment  in  the  article  of  common  sense  and 
of  practical  tact.  Still,  for  anything  like  an  exhaustive  com- 
pleteness in  my  enumeration  and  illustration  of  his  dominant 
traits,  it  seems  necessary  that  I  should  make  separate  and 
emphatic  note  of  these  two  gifts  of  his.  Two  gifts,  I  perhaps 
ought  not  to  call  them;  they  so  mingle  and  merge  into  each 
other  that  they  seem  almost  one  and  the  same.  Common 
sense  may  perhaps  be  defined  as  that  faculty  of  quick  and  sane 
judgment  in  a  man  which  enables  him  at  once  to  see  clearly 
his  true  aim  in  any  given  case,  and  to  choose  at  once  the 
right  way,  among  many  often  distracting  ways  that  may  of- 
fer, to  the  winning  of  his  aim.  Tact  is  that  finer  form  of 
common  sense  which  extricates  a  man  from  the  entanglement 
of  peculiar  difficulties  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  confront- 
ing him,  especially  from  the  encounter  of  thwart  individuali- 
ties, the  opposition  of  other  wills  than  his  own.     It  follows 


396  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

from  these  definitions  that  will  in  a  man,  self-confident  de- 
cision of  character,  may  have  much  to  do  with  what  to  many 
observers  will  perhaps  seem  triumphs  of  pure  common  sense 
and  tact.  Sometimes  a  powerful  personality  will  so  over- 
come obstacles,  will  so  overbear  oppositions,  as  to  make  a 
particular  judgment  of  the  man  acting  upon  it  successfully, 
seem  to  have  been  wise,  when  in  fact  it  was  only  victorious. 
The  verdict  will  be.  What  common  sense !  what  tact !  when 
the  verdict  ought  to  have  been.  What  force  of  personality ! 
what  ascendency  of  will !  Both  verdicts  at  once  could  often 
be  fitly  and  justly  pronounced  with  reference  to  Mr.  Moody. 

Full  candor  requires  the  admission  that  occasionally  Mr. 
Moody  has  laid  himself  liable  to  a  reluctant  feeling,  on  the 
part  of  even  the  most  friendly  observers  of  his  conduct,  that 
he  too  little  regarded  the  sensibilities,  nay,  and  the  actual 
rights,  of  those  whom  he  thought  it  necessary  to  withstand  or 
override  in  public.  In  these  cases  the  element  of  will,  not  to 
say  self-will,  entered  too  strongly  for  its  just  equilibrium  with 
blameless  common  sense  and  amiable  tact.  But  it  is  testified 
of  this  strenuous  man  that  he  is  as  ready  as  the  readiest  to 
make  the  amends  of  explanation  and  apology,  when  convinced 
that  he  has  committed  an  error  of  abruptness  injurious  to 
the  feelings  of  a  brother. 

The  genius  for  affairs  which  Mr.  Moody  possesses  has  in- 
carnated itself  in  several  imposing  forms  which  are  likely 
long  to  survive  the  man  himself.  There  are  the  two  great 
schools,  one  for  girls  at  Northfield,  and  one  for  boys  at  Mount 
Hermon,  a  few  miles  apart  from  each  other,  in  Massachu- 
setts ;  there  is  the  Bible  Institute  in  Chicago,  a  training-school 
for  Christian  workers;  and  then  there  is  the  Colportage  As- 
sociation, having  its  headquarters  at  the  Bible  Institute.  Be- 
sides, there  are  the  Northfield  Summer  Conferences,  which 
have  become  a  recognized  and  established  force  in  education 
for  the  spread  of  the  Gospel  through  the  earth.  The  two 
schools  first  spoken  of  are  nobly  housed  in  durable  buildings 
situated  in  ample  and  beautiful  grounds,  and  they  gather 
large  numbers  of  pupils,  received  at  very  low  rates  and  kept 


DWIGHT  LYMAN  MOODY  397 

under  constant  and  positive  Christian  influences.  The  Bible 
Institute  has  a  substantial,  well-planned,  and  well-appointed 
home  very  near  the  Chicago-avenue  church,  and  it  attracts 
increasing  numbers  of  students.  The  list  now  comprises 
more  than  three  hundred  names  of  men  and  women.  These 
learn  to  do  Christian  work,  not  only  by  being  taught  the  art 
of  it  under  instructors,  but  by  actually  doing  it  while  they 
study.  The  Colportage  Association  employs  during  the  year 
six  hundred  distributers  of  popular  Christian  literature.  All 
these  important  organizations,  so  far  as  they  have  a  human 
father,  are  the  children  of  Mr.  Moody's  brain  and  heart.  I 
suppose  that  with  these  I  should  reckon  also  the  Chicago-ave- 
nue church,  which  sprang  out  of  the  Sunday-school  estab- 
lished by  Mr.  Moody.  It  is  doubtful  if  any  single  man  in  the 
latter  half  of  this  century,  a  period  of  time  peculiarly  rich  in 
such  initiative,  has  been  a  more  fruitful  origin  of  beneficent 
Christian  organization.  Some  will  feel  perhaps  that  exception 
should  be  made  in  favor  of  "  General "  Booth,  of  George 
Miiller  at  Bristol  in  England,  of  Charles  H.  Spurgeon.  But 
Spurgeon  worked  as  pastor  of  a  church  with  an  antecedent 
honorable  history,  whereas  Mr.  Moody  has  wrought,  as  it 
were  with  his  own  individual  naked  strength.  Miiller's  ex- 
ample has  been  far  surpassed,  in  variety  at  least,  by  what 
Mr.  Moody  has  achieved.  As  to  the  Salvation  Army,  it  re- 
mains to  be  seen  what  will  survive  of  that  organization  after 
the  founder's  death.  Mr.  Moody's  educational  foundations 
at  least  may  be  regarded  as  likely  to  have  an  indefinitely  long 
future  history.  But  such  comparison  is  probably  not  wise. 
All  these  men  would,  if  they  all  were  living,  unite  in  ascrib- 
ing to  God  as  the  real  author,  everything  that  they  have  been 
the  human  means  of  effecting. 

I  have  not  yet  spoken  of  Mr.  Moody's  achievement  as  pro- 
ducer of  books.  This  work  of  course  belongs  to  him  in  his 
capacity  of  man  of  affairs  rather  than  in  his  capacity  of 
preacher,  altho  his  books  are  the  fruit  of  his  preaching,  the 
contents  of  most  of  them  in  fact  bearing  the  mark  of  having 
done  service  first  as  pulpit  or  platform  discourses.    The  cir- 


398  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

culation  of  these  books  is  enormous.  From  the  business  man- 
ager of  the  Bible  Institute  I  learned  that  a  million  and  a  half 
copies  have  in  the  aggregate  been  sold.  Mr.  Moody's  "  Way 
to  God  "  alone  has  reached  a  circulation  of  more  than  four 
hundred  thousand  copies.  I  was  told  that  no  profits  from 
these  sales  accrue  to  Mr.  Moody  himself.  The  same  is,  I 
believe,  true  of  the  sales  of  the  "  Gospel  Hymns."  All  gains 
from  these  sources  are  turned  in  to  the  support  of  the  Chris- 
tian institutions  and  the  forwarding  of  the  Christian  enter- 
prises for  which  Mr.  Moody  has  assumed  responsibility  of 
such  staggering  weight.  That  is  to  say,  besides  having  origi- 
nated so  much  Christian  beneficeace,  Mr.  Moody  contributes 
to  the  sustaining  of  it  the  income  from  a  literary  property 
perhaps  exceeding  in  money  value  any  other  individual  liter- 
ary property  in  the  world. 

The  preacher  and  the  man  of  affairs  in  Mr.  Moody  are 
equal  reciprocal  helpers  the  one  of  the  other;  and  this  has 
made  it  proper  to  treat  so  fully  as  I  have  done  in  the  present 
case,  the  man  of  affairs,  in  a  criticism  purporting  to  be  a 
criticism  of  the  preacher. 


XVI 
FRANK  WAKELY  GUNSAULUS 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

A  STRIKING  thing,  perhaps  the  most  striking  thing  about 
Dr.  Gunsaulus's  production,  as  it  appears  in  print,  is  the 
impression  of  attractively  generous  personal  character  in  the 
author,  everywhere  stamped  upon  it.  The  effect  is  simply 
contagious.  You  become,  if  not  actually  generous,  like  him, 
at  least  indisposed,  partly  indeed  unable,  to  judge  such  a  man 
otherwise  than  generously. 

It  is  a  most  admonitory  fact,  well-adapted  to  affect  seri- 
ously any  one  of  us  all  who  addresses  the  public,  whether  in 
speaking  or  in  writing  —  the  fact  that,  independently  of  what 
is  said,  and  independently  of  the  style  in  which  it  is  said, 
there  is  a  spirit  of  the  man  who  says  it,  inevitably  and  inex- 
tricably entangled  in  the  discourse  given  out.  Perhaps  this 
spirit,  obscure  and  subtle  though  it  be,  is  more  potent  than 
anything  else  whatever  involved,  for  final  and  fundamental 
influence  on  hearer  or  reader.  We  thus  touch  upon  that 
which  is  deepest  in  the  doctrine  of  "  unconscious  influence  " 
made  memorable  and  instructive  forever  by  Dr.  Bushnell's 
famous  sermon  bearing  that  title. 

The  character  of  generosity  in  the  man  is  not  less  vividly 
present  and  impressive  in  the  living  eloquence  of  Dr.  Gun- 
saulus,  the  speaker,  than,  as  just  now  pointed  out,  it  is  in  the 
pages  of  his  published  production. 


i|oi 


FRANK  WAKELY  GUNSAULUS 

Dr.  Gunsaulus  belongs  unmistakably  to  the  order  of  those 
orators  who  hold  their  audiences  and  establish  their  fame  by 
charm  of  rhetoric  and  charm  of  elocution  rather  than  by 
originality  and  potency  of  thought.  He  is  eminently  such  a 
preacher  as  is  properly  placed  only  in  a  great  centre  of  popu- 
lation, where  he  may  make  up  his  audience  by  a  process  of 
gradual  selection,  and  attachment  to  himself,  from  among  the 
general  mass,  of  those  hearers  to  whom  his  individual  quality 
naturally  addresses  itself.  He  is  a  powerful,  an  irresistible, 
magnet,  to  souls  that  have  ears  to  hear  such  a  voice  as  his. 
Others  than  these  remain  irresponsive  and  inert ;  hearing  they 
hear  not.  It  is  a  wise  ordination  of  Divine  Providence,  one 
which  should  be  reverently  and  gratefully  recognized,  that 
there  are  always  hearers  somewhere  to  be  found  for  every 
voice,  whatever  its  peculiar  tone,  that  speaks  truly  for  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Dr.  Gunsaulus  has  found  his  hearers  in 
great  multitude,  and  has  kept  them  loyally  and  affectionately 
his,  through  an  experiment  which  should  be  held  a  sufficient 
test  and  proof  of  his  oratoric  merit,  for  it  has  prolonged  itself 
without  loss  to  his  influence  through  many  years  in  the  great 
metropolis  of  Chicago.  Thence  indeed  Dr.  Gunsaulus's  fame 
has  diffused  itself  widely  throughout  the  whole  land. 

"  An  erect  humanity  in  the  pulpit,  speaking  to  the  humanity 
that  honors  it,  trusts  it,  and  provides  support  for  it  —  how 
sublime  it  all  is  !  " 

That  sentence,  with  its  bold,  unexpected  exclamatory  close, 
presents  at  once  in  small  the  ideal  of  the  Christian  ministry 
which  Dr.  Gunsaulus  embraces  for  his  inspiration,  and  which, 
to  a  great  degree,  he  himself  realizes  and  represents.  Ob- 
serve heedfully ;  it  is  "  an  erect  humanity,"  and  yet  it  is  an 
humanity    that    meekly    and    magnanimously    accepts    and 

402  . 


FRANK  WAKELY  GUNSAULUS 


403 


acknowledges  "  support "  from  the  brother  humanity  to  which 
it  preaches.  It  is  a  fine  ideal  —  indefinitely  finer  because  of 
the  realization  felt  to  be  embodied  and  present  in  the  speaker 
who  announces  it.  And  then  the  eloquent,  abrupt,  unlooked- 
for,  sudden  culmination  and  climax  — "  how  sublime  it  all 
is !  "  What  a  welcome  and  embrace  it  constitutes,  for  a 
"  function  "  recognized  thus  as  at  once  lofty  and  lowly,  to 
glory  in  it,  to  acclaim  it  "  sublime  " ! 

The  sentence  thus  remarked  upon  occurs  in  a  paper  from 
Dr.  Gunsaulus,  published  in  the  "  Homiletic  Review,"  under 
the  title,  "  The  Significance  and  Function  of  the  Ministry." 
One  reads  this  paper  and  infers  that  it  must  have  been  deliv- 
ered as  an  address,  a  concio  ad  clerum;  it  would  have 
answered  equally  well,  perhaps  it  did  answer,  as  a  sermon 
for  a  mixed  Christian  congregation. 

This  discourse  is  probably  as  good  a  representative  homi- 
letic utterance  of  the  author  as  could  be  selected,  to  set  him 
forth  in  specimen  at  his  own  characteristic  most  eloquent  and 
best.  The  text  taken  —  for  there  is  a  text,  altho  it  is  not 
formally  announced  as  such  —  is  Paul's  defense  before  King 
Agrippa.  But  the  stress  of  the  discourse  is  laid  upon  the 
words,  "  Who  art  thou.  Lord  ?  and  he  said,  I  am  Jesus  whom 
thou  persecutest ; "  and,  besides  these,  upon  those  other 
words,  "  Rise,  stand  upon  thy  feet."  The  title  might  not  in- 
appropriately have  been,  "  The  Lordship  of  Christ  Experi- 
enced, the  True  Inspiration  of  the  Minister  " —  an  emphasis 
resting  on  the  word  "  Experienced." 

One  is  obliged  to  acknowledge  that  the  fine  oratoric  fervor 
of  Dr.  Gunsaulus's  discourse  now  and  again  outruns  the  ex- 
actitude, the  clarity,  of  his  thought  and  his  expression.  For 
example : 

"  No  preacher  ever  had  evangelic  power  who  did  not  know 
that  Christ  is  Lord  by  the  indubitable  fact  that  He  actually  has 
taken  his  soul  by  moral  majesty  and  so  ruled  at  the  centre  of  his 
life,  that  while  he  questions  'Who  art  thou?'  as  to  a  thousand 
other  things,  he  says  in  deepest,  unconscious  confession,  '  Who 
art  thou,  Lord? ' " 


404  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT.  DISCOURSE 

Instead  of  saying,  "by  the  indubitable  fact,"  ought  not 
Dr.  Gunsaulus  to  have  said,  "  by  an  indubitable  conscious- 
ness?" Exactly  what  can  Dr.  Gunsaulus  mean  by  saying, 
"  while  he  questions  *  Who  art  thou  ?  '  as  to  a  thousand  other 
things?"  Does  he  simply  mean  that,  amid  a  thousand  un- 
certainties as  to  other  things,  of  one  thing  the  minister  must 
be  unwaveringly  certain,  namely,  that  Jesus  Christ  is  Lord? 
If  that  is  the  meaning,  why  confuse  it  by  saying,  "  While 
he  questions, '  Who  art  thou?  '  "  If  the  speaker  had  not  said, 
"as  to  a  thousand  other  things,"  one  might  conjecture  that 
his  thought  was,  a  minister  may  be  doubtful  about  the  person 
of  Christ,  what  his  true  rank  is  in  the  scale  of  being,  but  of 
this  he  must  be  immovably  persuaded,  that  Christ  is  Lord. 
If  Dr.  Gunsaulus  had  rigorously  asked  himself  two  questions, 
first,  Exactly  what  is  my  thought  ?  and,  second.  Does  this  ex- 
actly express  my  thought  ?  he  might  have  made  himself  clearer 
at  this  point.  Still  the  general  purport  is  clear  enough:  the 
intimate  absolute  conviction  in  the  preacher's  soul,  planted 
there,  rooted  there,  by  a  personal  experience  of  his  own,  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  Lord,  is  the  indispensable  condition  of  that 
preacher's  "  evangelic  power " —  a  noble  meaning,  well 
worthy  of  any  man's  best  efforts  to  express  it  clearly  and  to 
impress  it  effectively. 

Recurring  for  a  moment  to  the  brief  sentence  first  quoted, 
I  am  impelled  to  say  concerning  it,  that  as  a  mere  matter  of 
literary  form  it  is  admirable  for  its  straightforwardness  and 
its  simplicity.  Dr.  Gunsaulus  is  often,  perhaps  generally,  far 
more  involved  and  elaborate  in  his  constructions  —  altho  in 
this  particular  discourse  he  is  prevailingly  clear  and  direct 
beyond  the  general  habit  of  his  rhetoric. 

I  have  not  yet  shown  the  statement  in  which  Dr.  Gunsaulus 
himself  sums  up  and  crystallizes  the  teaching  found  by  him 
in  the  defense  of  Paul  before  Agrippa,  and  made  by  him  to 
suggest  his  ideal  for  the  Christian  minister.  Here  is  that 
statement : 

"The  upshot  of  all  his  [Paul's]  experiences  is  that  of  all  others 


FRANK  WAKELY  GUNSAULUS 


405 


who  truly  succeed,  and  it  is  this :  The  Christian  ministry  has  its 
power  and  hope  of  making  this  a  better  world  and  otherwise 
serving  God  and  man,  in  helping  toward  an  erect  manhood — a 
manhood  which  is  erect  because  it  has  -first  confessed  the  Lordship 
of  Jesus  Christ;  and  thus  has  been  lifted  and  inspired  by  a  vision 
of  Jesus  Christ  as  the  revelation  of  God  and  the  revelation  of 
man." 

Considered  in  point  of  literary  form,  the  foregoing  sen- 
tence lacks  something  of  absolute  simplicity  and  transparency, 
but  let  us  consider  it  in  point  of  substance.  There  is  an  ap- 
proach in  it  to  the  homiletic  doctrine  contained  in  Mr.  Beech- 
er's  answer  to  his  own  question,  "What  is  preaching?"  I 
have  ventured  to  put  in  italics  words,  however,  that  seem  to 
show  Dr.  Gunsaulus's  doctrine  in  a  certain  contrast  to  Mr. 
Beecher's.  Dr.  Gunsaulus's  "  erect  manhood  "  is  saved  by  the 
italicized  words  from  the  too  great  license  allowed  by  Mr. 
Beecher's  "  reconstructed  manhood."  Dr.  Gunsaulus  con- 
forms his  conception  loyally  to  the  teaching  and  the  example 
of  both  Peter  and  Paul;  the  lordship  of  Christ  confessed  is, 
according  to  him,  as  it  is  according  to  those  two  apostles,  the 
indispensable  condition  precedent,  nay,  the  precedent  pro- 
curing cause,  of  the  "  erect  manhood  "  to  be  produced. 

The  figure  of  speech  contained  in  the  word  "  erect "  thus 
used,  Dr.  Gunsaulus  ingeniously  finds  in  the  words  addressed 
by  Christ  to  Paul,  "  Rise,  stand  upon  thy  feet."  While  it  is 
true  that  Paul's  writings  would  be  searched  in  vain  for  any 
inculcation  expressed  or  implied,  for  ministers  or  for  any- 
body —  to  be  "  self-respecting,"  as  Dr.  Gunsaulus  does  not 
hesitate  to  recommend  to  ministers  to  be ;  yet  Paul's  example 
in  conduct,  and  his  example,  too,  involved  in  the  tone  and 
temper  of  his  letters,  abundantly  supply  the  defect  of  direct 
inculcation  from  him  to  this  purpose.  Of  course,  the  finding 
of  the  lesson  of  "  erect  manhood "  in  those  words,  "  Rise, 
stand  upon  thy  feet,"  is  a  homiletic,  rather  than  an  exegetic, 
achievement.  Dr.  McLaren  would  hardly  have  been  equal 
to  it  —  at  any  rate,  without  distinctly  noting  that  it  was  an 
instance  of  "  accommodation." 


4o6  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

It  appears  a  really  important  part  of  the  lesson  drawn  by 
Dr.  Gunsaulus  from  the  passage  of  Scripture  which  he  treats, 
that  the  minister  should  be  a  true  specimen  of  "  erect  man- 
hood." "  The  hope,"  he  says,  "  for  an  erect,  self-respectful, 
lofty-souled  ministry  lies  in  what  Jesus  is  and  does  for  him 
in  humanity."  [The  italics  are  mine.]  The  words  italicized 
might  seem  to  imply  too  much  of  arrogation,  of  self-assertion, 
in  Dr.  Gunsaulus's  ideal  minister,  to  be  consistent  with  the 
apostolic,  the  Pauline,  spirit  of  prostration  in  self-effacement 
and  absolute  obedience  before  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  But 
that  implication  is  guarded  against  with  Dr.  Gunsaulus  by  re- 
peated emphatic  insistence  upon  the  idea  of  the  supreme  lord- 
ship of  Christ,  and  of  the  necessity  of  the  minister's  experi- 
encing and  confessing  this.  Somewhat  paradoxically.  Dr. 
Gunsaulus  says :  "  We  are  made  erect  and  manly  by  adora- 
tion." He  goes  on :  "  Before  a  merely  beautiful  character,  a 
profound  moralist,  a  true  philosopher,  an  heroic  martyr,  we 
do  not  fall  to  earth  in  obedience,  neither  do  we  rise  to  our 
full  height  at  his  command."  Such  language  about  Christ 
puts  the  person  using  it  widely  outside  the  ranks  of  those 
who  reduce  Jesus  to  human  measure,  or,  which  amounts  to 
the  same  thing,  nay,  to  something  still  further  from  the 
truth  than  that  (were  further  possible!)  exalt  man  to  divine 
measure,  equal  in  kind,  if  not  quite  yet  equal  in  degree,  with 
the  divinity  of  Christ  Jesus  himself. 

In  view  of  loyal  expressions  such  as  those  shown  in  use  by 
Dr.  Gunsaulus,  one  may  understand  in  a  favorable  sense  cer- 
tain things  said  by  hirii  that  otherwise  would  seem  to  preach 
too  proud  a  doctrine  of  the  dignity  of  human  nature.  "  Je- 
sus," he  says,  "  believed  in  man  because  He  believed  in  God. 
.  No  one  ever  so  trusted  in  man  at  his  worst."  That 
language,  taken  by  itself,  reads  strangely  at  variance  with  the 
testimony  of  John  the  evangelist,  who,  even  of  the  many  that 
on  a  certain  occasion,  believed  on  the  name  of  Jesus,  said: 
"  But  Jesus  did  not  trust  himself  unto  them,  for  that  he  knew 
all  men,  and  because  he  needed  not  that  any  one  should  bear 
witness   concerning  man;   for  he  himself  knew  what  was 


FRANK  IVAKELY  GUNSAULUS  407 

in  man."  Dr.  Gunsaulus  did  not,  I  venture  to  submit,  mean 
exactly  what  he  for  a  moment  laid  himself  liable  to  be 
understood  as  saying.  What  he  really  meant  was,  not  that 
Jesus  trusted  man  for  any  nobleness  seen  in  him  "  at  his 
worst,"  but  only  that  He,  if  He  were  lifted  up,  would  draw 
all  men  to  Himself.  In  other  words,  Christ  trusted,  not  man 
"  at  his  worst,"  but  Himself  and  the  eventual  attraction  of 
the  Cross.  This  is  the  rhetorical  way  in  which  Dr.  Gun- 
saulus puts  it :  "  He  would  trust  man  to  come  again  to 
Calvary  age  after  age,  to  find  if  one  drop  of  His  blood  still 
quivered  there."  A  little  later,  Dr.  Gunsaulus  says:  "The 
minister  of  Christ  has  an  unfailing  theme.  .  .  .  It  is 
the  Lamb  of  God  slain  from  the  foundation  of  the  world." 

An  expression  like  that  last  is  the  expression  of  a  man  who 
believes  in  the  gospel  of  a  suffering  Savior,  who  believes  in 
preaching  that  gospel,  who  believes  in  getting  that  gospel 
preached.  "  The  only  pulpit  that  men  respect  permanently 
pours  forth  the  music  of  redemption,"  Dr.  Gunsaulus  says. 
Yes,  but  does  Dr.  Gunsaulus  say  the  correlative  thing,  namely, 
that  men  need  redemption?  He  does  say  it,  and,  still  more 
abundantly,  he  implies  it.  "  If  our  ministry  is  Christian,  it 
surpasses,"  he  says,  "  the  keenest-eyed  pessimism  in  perceiv- 
ing the  historical  fact  that  '  in  Adam  all  die.'  "  "  But  if  it  is 
Christian,"  he  proceeds  to  say,  "  it  surpasses  philosophic 
optimism  by  its  discovery  of  an  outlook  through  the  fact  that 
'  in  Christ  shall  all  be  made  alive.' "  Dr.  Gunsaulus  empha- 
sizes the  universalism  of  this  by  repetition  and  restatement ; 
"  Universal  as  was  and  is  the  disaster  in  Eden,  so  universal 
was  and  is  the  recovery  at  Calvary." 

Is  Dr.  Gunsaulus  then  a  "  Universalist,"  in  the  popular 
theologic  sense  of  that  word?  It  does  not  seem  in  this  dis- 
course to  appear  that  he  is  not.  But  one  cannot  be  sure  either 
on  this  side  or  on  that.  Dr.  Gunsaulus  is  generous,  and  he  is 
rhetorical.  If  you  ask.  Which  interest  is  stronger,  is  con- 
trolling, with  him,  the  theological  or  the  rhetorical,  the 
answer  must  be,  The  rhetorical.  Which,  the  exegetic  or  the 
rhetorical?     The    answer   must    be   again.   The    rhetorical. 


4o8  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

Which,  the  logical  or  the  rhetorical?  Once  more,  must  be 
the  answer,  The  rhetorical.  Which,  the  analytical,  or  the 
rhetorical?  The  answer  must  still  continue  to  be,  The  rhe- 
torical. Is  the  rhetorical  interest  then  supreme,  even  ex- 
clusive, with  Dr.  Gunsaulus?  By  no  means.  Truth,  funda- 
mental, vital,  evangelic  truth  —  that,  in  the  last  assay,  is 
undoubtedly  the  supreme  interest  with  Dr.  Gunsaulus.  But 
the  ever-present,  ever-urgent,  rhetorical  interest  prevents  him 
at  times  from  being  altogether  as  effective  as  were  to  be 
desired,  in  his  unquestionable  ultimate  fidelity  to  evangelic 
truth. 

I  have  indicated  that  Dr.  Gunsaulus  is  comparatively  weak 
in  point  of  analytic  instinct  and  method.  For  instance,  as  to 
the  present  discourse;  if  you  seek  the  analysis  of  it,  you  will 
have  to  seek  diligently  in  order  to  find  it.  There  is  at  length 
a  sense  begotten  in  the  reader  that,  with  all  the  vital  move- 
ment in  which  he  feels  himself  involved  along  with  the  author, 
he  is  not  making  sensible  progress  toward  a  goal  clearly  fore- 
seen and  constantly  intended.  To  be  sure,  after  two  full 
pages  (out  of  five  in  the  whole  discourse),  you  come  upon 
this,  which  might  seem  to  be  a  tripartite  "  partition  "  follow- 
ing an  introduction  disproportionately  long :  "  Here  [the 
precise  meaning  and  reference  of  '  here '  is  not  very  de- 
terminable] the  Christian  minister  finds  himself  and  his 
message.  Who  is  he?  What  is  his  message?  How  does  it 
appeal  to  men  ?  " 

"  First  of  all,"  the  discourse  proceeds  —  answering  the  first 
of  these  three  questions.  But  the  answer  is  substantially  an- 
eloquent  restatement,  an  intense  repetition,  of  what  has  fore- 
gone. A  page  of  this,  and  we  have  a  paragraph  beginning: 
"  Secondly,  what  is  his  message?  "  Two  pages,  in  which  the 
sequence  of  thought  is  not  so  clear  as  it  ought  to  be,  follow, 
of  glowing  rhetorical  utterance,  in  the  course  of  which  occurs, 
without  being  at  all  obviously  led  up  to,  that  declaration 
already  quoted,  "  The  minister's  unfailing  theme  is  the  Lamb 
of  God  slain  from  the  foundation  of  the  world."  So  far  there 
appears  to  be  a  purposed  carrying  out  of  the  tripartite  division 


FRANK  WAKELY  GUNSAULUS  409 

proposed  of  the  discourse.  But  the  discourse  ends  without 
any  apparent  recollection  on  the  preacher's  part  that  he  has 
done  nothing  with  his  third  point,  namely,  the  question, 
"How  does  it  [the  minister's  message]  appeal  to  men?" 
So  far  then  as  the  matter  of  analysis  is  concerned,  this  dis- 
course lacks  something  of  being  exemplarily  admirable. 

The  vigilant  reader's  eye,  looking  over  these  last  brilliant, 
though  not  well-articulated,  pages  of  discourse,  is  caught 
with  this  suggestive,  but  somewhat  ambiguous,  sentence  (the 
italics  are  mine):  "Without  Him  [Christ],  they  [people] 
will  not  stay  to  hear  our  dream  of  a  better  day;  and  with 
him,  they  will  not  tolerate  our  depreciation  of  humanity  and 
our  defamation  of  the  soul  of  man."  What  ministers  are  they 
that  thus  "  depreciate  "  and  "  defame  ?  "  Whom  has  Dr.  Gun- 
saulus  in  mind?  I  can  think  of  but  two  classes  of  such 
persons  in  the  world,  and  only  one  of  these  two  classes  is  at 
all  likely  to  have  representatives  in  the  pulpit.  Cynics  may 
be  said  to  depreciate  and  defame  human  nature,  but  cynics  are 
very  unlikely  to  be  ministers.  Does  Dr.  Gunsaulus  here  have 
a  slant  at  ministers  holding  too  literally  the  doctrine  of  "  total 
depravity,"  as  the  (by  himself  recognized)  fallen  condition 
in  man  used  unhappily  to  be  called?  If  so,  the  slant  was  un- 
necessary in  these  times  when  the  danger  is  all  the  other  way, 
and  human  nature  is  far  more  likely  to  be  overpraised  than 
to  be  overblamed.  From  that  greater  danger,  Dr.  Gunsaulus, 
with  his  generous  spirit  and  his  amiable  fondness  for  being 
in  sympathy  with  his  fellows,  does  not  himself  enjoy  complete 
immunity,  as  several  expressions  in  the  present  discourse  suf- 
ficiently show. 

I  am  led  thus  to  remark  that  whereas  some  orators,  a  few, 
a  very  few  —  those  perhaps  the  greatest,  as  men,  if  not  to  be 
rated  greatest  distinctively  as  orators  —  exert  their  influence 
by  dominating  their  hearers,  there  are  others,  a  more  numer- 
ous class,  who  exert  their  influence  by  attracting,  persuading. 
Persuasive,  rather  than  dominating,  is  Dr.  Gunsaulus's  gift 
in  eloquence.  Whether  he  would  rise  equal  to  an  occasion 
requiring  heroic  encounter  and  challenge  of  a  haughty  popular 


410  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

mood,  nothing  but  a  practical  test  could  satisfactorily  prove, 
either  to  himself  or  to  others.  The  courage  would  probably 
not  be  wanting,  nor  the  willingness  to  sacrifice  material  self- 
interest;  but  could  Dr.  Gunsaulus  bring  himself  to  deny  his 
fellows  that  complaisance  which  he  instinctively  wishes  to 
yield  ?  Would  he,  or  would  he  not,  be  irresistibly  swept  him- 
self into  the  popular  current  that  a  man  of  dififerent  make 
would  feel  it  his  duty  to  stem?  These  questions  are  started 
in  the  mind,  but  answer  to  them  there  is  none  to  be  had  — 
till  some  crucial  experiment  is  reached.  Even  while  engaged 
in  reading  the  proof  of  this  paper  for  publication  in  volume, 
I  learn  something  to  the  present  point,  from  a  wisely  dis- 
criminating occasional  observer  of  Dr.  Gunsaulus's  preach- 
ing. This  gentleman  tells  me  that  on  a  certain  occasion  he 
heard  Dr.  Gunsaulus  address  point  blank  to  rich  men  present 
in  his  audience  the  boldest  possible  arraignment  of  their 
spirit  and  behavior  —  a  display  of  courage,  so  my  informant 
thought,  more  noteworthy  than  would  have  been  a  challenge 
of  the  populace,  since  it  was  precisely  upon  such  rich  men 
that  this  preacher  must  rely  for  his  support. 

Dr.  Gunsaulus  shows  some  ambition,  and  some  true  capac- 
ity, of  scholarship,  and  in  general  a  good  tone  of  taste  pre- 
vails throughout  his  production.  It  accordingly  reads  out  of 
harmony  with  the  pure  tenor  of  his  text  —  such  a  condescen- 
sion as  the  following  toward  a  turn  of  phrase  which,  if  not 
quite  slang,  is  at  least  too  familiar  [italics  mine]  :  "  He 
[Christ]  is  the  Lamb  of  God  that  taketh  away  the  sins  [sin] 
of  the  world.  He  worked  His  divinity  for  all  there  was  in 
it,  in  His  struggle  with  the  undivine."  "  Undivine  "  is  a  coin- 
age not  characteristic  of  Dr.  Gunsaulus's  diction.  It  is  a  care- 
lessness, and  at  the  same  time  a  suspicion  of  affectation,  when 
he  speaks  of  the  "  moral  beauty  "  of  Jesus,  and  then,  in  the 
same  sentence,  of  "  its  very  beautifulness."  The  "  beautiful- 
ness  "  of  "  beauty  "  ? 

The  attentive  reader  of  this  paper  will  not  have  failed  to 
observe  that  the  brief  extracts  shown  from  the  discourse  ex- 
amined evince  a  buoyancy  toward  the  poetic  in  Dr.  Gunsau- 


FRANK  WAKELY  GUNSAULUS  411 

lus's  rhetoric.  The  native  poetic  instinct  in  him,  Dr.  Gun- 
saulus  has  in  fact  indulged  in  the  open  form  of  verse  to  an 
extent  sufficient  to  make  a  volume.  A  minor  key  of  pathos 
may,  I  think,  be  felt  in  his  production,  a  pathos  which  is  far 
enough  from  pessimism,  but  vi^hich  suggests  that  his  own 
personal  experience  of  life  has  taken  him  below  the  surface 
of  things  some  way  down  into  the  deep  heart  of  the  mystery 
of  the  world,  its  sin  and  its  sorrow.  An  undertone  of  the 
"  still  sad  music  of  humanity  "  makes  itself  heard  in  his  dis- 
course, if  the  ear  that  listens  is  sensitive.  At  once  poetic 
and  pathetic,  subtly  pathetic,  is  a  sentence  like  this :  "  Christ 
had  taken  him  [Paul],  as  the  sovereign  harmony  takes  the 
wandering  tone." 

If  the  chances,  as  we  call  them,  of  life,  had  given  Dr.  Gun- 
saulus's  poetic  bent  the  advantage  over  his  homiletic,  and 
made  him  a  poet  instead  of  a  preacher,  would  he  have 
achieved  an  equally  eminent  and  equally  useful  career?  Per- 
haps; but  in  that  case  he  would  still  have  been  preacher,  be- 
sides being  poet,  just  as  now  he  is  poet  besides  being 
preacher. 


XVII 
WILLIAM  MORLEY  PUNSHON 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

Without  purpose,  even  without  thought,  on  the  writer's 
part,  of  either  including  or  excluding  subjects  of  criticism 
on  the  ground  of  denominational  affiliation,  he  had  in  fact, 
as  he  could  not  but  at  length  observe,  made  up  his  list  of 
eminent  preachers  to  be  criticised  by  him  with  no  name 
in  it  representative  of  the  great  Methodist  body.  It  wore 
almost  a  look  of  intentional  adverse  discrimination.  It  was 
at  once  resolved  that  the  collective  volume  at  least  should 
take  away  such  apparent  openness  to  reproach. 

But  immediately  then  a  difficulty  presented  itself.  With 
a  wealth  of  equipment  in  eloquent  voices,  suggested  when 
names  among  the  living  like  4hose  of  Bishop  Fowler,  Bishop 
Vincent,  Chancellor  Day,  Dr.  Buckley,  are  called  to  mind, 
the  Methodist  ministry  has  not  recently  contributed  many 
noteworthy  books  of  sermons  to  homiletic  Hterature;  and  to 
criticise  preaching  without  being  able  to  refer  readers  to 
printed  production  in  specimen,  did  not  seem  to  promise  the 
amount  of  edifying  result  that  was  desirable. 

On  the  whole,  after  taking  counsel  with  the  one  man  in 
"  Methodism,"  who,  if  the  question  were  of  journalism,  and 
not  of  preaching,  would  instantly  preclude  all  thought  of 
competition  for  the  foremost  place,  the  writer  decided,  with 
that  one  man's  approval  of  his  choice,  to  present  the  name  of 
William  Morley  Punshon  as  representative  of  the  modern 
Methodist  pulpit. 


415 


WILLIAM  MORLEY  PUNSHON 

Among  Methodist  preachers  of  recent  time,  two  names, 
one  English,  one  American,  stand  out  to  the  general  Chris- 
tian public  as  by  eminence  of  the  widest  and  most  brilliant 
fame.  Those  two  names  are  William  Morley  Punshon  and 
Matthew  Simpson.  That  the  Englishman  rather  than  the 
American  should  be  selected  as  the  representative  Meth- 
odist preacher  to  be  treated  of  here,  may  be  credited  to  the 
fact  that  the  Englishman's  authorized  product  in  print  is 
more  considerable  than  the  American's. 

The  present  writer's  opportunity  for  personal  observation 
of  the  living  orator,  has  been  limited  in  both  these  two  cases ; 
but  it  has  been  exactly  equal  in  the  two.  Equal  in  amount, 
but,  in  point  of  favorableness  for  the  speaker,  found  in  the 
two  respective  occasions  of  their  oratory,  very  unequal. 
Bishop  Simpson  was,  as  I  suppose,  at  his  best  when  I  heard 
him;  at  any  rate,  he  was  not  below  his  own  average  of  elo- 
quence. Mr.  Punshon,  on  the  other  hand,  when  I  heard  him, 
was  put  by  circumstances  at  great  comparative  disadvantage, 
and  he  probably  presented  himself  on  that  occasion  as  little 
brilliantly  as  ever  he  could  have  done  on  any.  If  therefore 
there  is  help  to  be  derived  for  judging  justly  of  an  orator 
from  seeing  him  and  hearing  him  at  his  worst  instead  of  his 
best,  I  may  count  myself,  to  that  extent  at  least,  qualified  by 
observation  to  form  a  true  estimate  of  Mr.  Punshon's  oratoric 
quality.    The  occasion  referred  to  was  this: 

The  Wesleyan  anniversaries  were  in  progress  at  Exeter 
Hall  in  London.  The  day  was  the  great  day  of  the  feast, 
the  day  devoted  to  the  missionary  society.  Mr.  Punshon  was 
announced  as  one  of  the  speakers,  and  of  course  he  was  the 
speaker.  The  attendance  was  crowded,  but  my  American 
quality  procured  me  admission  to  an  eligible  seat  on  the  plat- 

416 


WILLIAM  MORLEY  PUNSHON  417 

form.  To  an  American  stranger  the  scene  was  full  of  inter- 
est. Many  in  the  audience  came  prepared  to  hold  their  seats 
all  day  long,  bringing  substantial  luncheon  with  them.  The 
day  had  waned  away  to  late  afternoon,  and  still  Mr.  Punshon 
was  held  in  reserve.  A  Mr.  James,  of  whom  I  knew  noth- 
ing, and  from  whom,  as  I  guessed,  little  was  expected  by  the 
audience,  immediately  preceded  Mr.  Punshon  on  the  pro- 
gram. The  audience  had  become  weary  and  languid,  and  I 
could  not  but  feel  sympathy  for  Mr.  James,  destined  victim 
to  be  sacrificed  on  the  altar  of  that  audience's  impatience  to 
hear  Mr.  Punshon. 

Mr.  James  began  as  if  he  had  something  to  say,  and 
furthermore  as  if  he  was  going  to  say  it  whether  men  would 
hear  or  forbear.  Men  for  the  most  part  forbore.  But  he 
went  on  as  if  unconscious  of  not  being  listened  to.  The  fact 
was  rather  perhaps  that  he  was  conscious  that  he  would  be 
listened  to.  And  listened  to  he  very  soon  was,  by  here  and 
there  a  person  in  the  audience.  That  person  here  and  there 
proved  a  nucleus  for  a  group  of  listeners.  The  groups  mul- 
tiplied, and  presently  became  confluent,  embracing  the  whole 
concourse.  From  listening  merely,  they  soon  listened  with 
interest.  The  interest  intensified  and  broke  into  sporadic 
applauses.  These  applauses  did  not  check  for  one  instant 
the  speaker's  momentum.  He  poured  his  discourse  impetu- 
ously forward,  an  uninterrupted  stream,  through  all  the 
applauses.  The  applauses  grew  general,  grew  enthusiastic, 
grew  wild.  They  were  irresistibly  contagious.  They  took 
in  even  the  indifferent  ushers,  armed  especially  for  effective 
demonstration  with  their  long,  stout  staves  of  office.  With 
these  staves  they  resonantly  pounded  the  floor,  changing 
hands  occasionally  to  ease  themselves  and  pound  the  harder, 
while  their  handkerchiefs  —  one  instance  at  least  like  this 
occurred  —  that  happened  to  be  held  in  their  hands,  flew 
whimsically  up  and  down,  in  unintended  visible  reinforce- 
ment of  their  very  much  intended  audible  demonstration. 
The  speaker  meantime  was  rushing  on  in  his  torrent  of 
oratory  — not  the  least  pause  for  all  that  tempestuous  re- 
AA 


4i8  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

sponse  to  his  eloquence.  I  never  before  witnessed  such  a 
scene;  I  have  never  witnessed  quite  such  a  scene  since.  If 
I  had  previously  been  sorry  for  this  speaker,  I  was  now  sorry 
for  the  speaker  that  was  to  follow  him. 

Unwilling  to  rely  absolutely  on  my  unassisted  memory  of 
so  many  years  ago,  I  took  the  precaution,  in  preparing  the 
present  paper,  to  appeal,  across  the  Atlantic,  for  correction  or 
for  confirmation  of  my  impression  as  to  the  occasion  thus 
described,  to  a  gentleman  in  London  who,  from  his  long  close 
relation  to  men  and  things  in  English  Wesleyanism,  would 
be  sure  to  know  the  facts  as  they  were.  He  courteously  re- 
plied, confirming  my  impression  at  every  material  point.  He 
wrote :  "  The  speech  you  heard  made  a  great  impression.  I 
do  not  wonder.  I  have  just  looked  at  a  full  report  of  it  in 
a  bound  volume  of  '  The  Watchman '  newspaper."  My  cor- 
respondent also  said :  "  Mr.  Alex.  T.  James  was  a  very  elo- 
quent man.  He  died  prematurely."  If  he  had  not  died  pre- 
maturely, perhaps  he,  instead  of  Mr.  Punshon,  would  have 
been  the  proper  choice  of  subject  to  be  treated  in  this  series 
of  criticisms. 

Mr.  Punshon  did  not  meet  successfully  the  emergency  in 
which  he  found  himself  involved.  Whether,  as  will  some- 
times happen  with  even  the  most  experienced  public  speaker 
(witness  Cicero,  philosophically  treating  of  oratory),  he  lost 
his  presence  of  mind,  or,  what  is  less  likely,  for  Punshon 
seems  to  have  been  a  sincerely  modest  man,  overestimated 
his  own  oratoric  powers  —  however  influenced,  he  made  the 
great  mistake  of  beginning  with  his  audience,  or  attempting 
to  begin  with  them,  on  the  same  lofty  level  of  feeling  to 
which  Mr.  James  had  gradually  brought  them  and  on  which 
he  turned  them  over  to  the  speaker  following  him.  The  re- 
sult was  inevitable.  Mr.  Punshon  labored  through  his  bril- 
liant rhetoric  with  manful  courage,  but  to  no  efifect  satisfac- 
tory either  to  himself  or  to  his  admiring  hearers.  In  short, 
Mr.  Punshon  may  be  considered  to  have  made  a  failure  on 
that  occasion,  if  he  could  be  admitted  ever  to  have  made  a 
failure  on  any. 


WILLIAM  MORLEY  PUNSHON 


419 


What  ought  Mr.  Punshon  to  have  done  instead  of  what  he 
did  do?  It  was  perhaps  a  case  in  which  there  was  nothing 
likely  to  be  successful,  open  to  a  speaker  of  precisely  Mr. 
Punshon's  quality.  Mr.  Punshon  was,  by  nature  and  by 
habit,  a  rhetorician  rather  than  an  orator.  He  had  probably 
written  out  in  full  and  memorized  the  address  he  was  to 
make.  With  conditions  favorable,  his  elocution,  which  cor- 
responded happily  to  his  rhetorical  style,  would  have  carried 
off  his  address  brilliantly  and  achieved  for  him  his  usual 
splendid  popular  success.  I  conjecture  that  he  had  not  at 
command  the  resources  which  would  have  enabled  him  to 
adjust  himself  to  unexpected  adverse  conditions.  Still,  if  he 
had  asked  his  audience  to  join  in  singing  a  hymn,  selected  for 
its  fitness  to  what  they  had  just  heard,  that  simple  transition 
interposed  might  have  had  the  effect  to  ease  them  gratefully 
of  the  tension  to  which  they  had  been  wrought,  and  to  dispose 
them  favorably  toward  listening  to  eloquence  of  a  different 
mood  from  that  of  the  address  which  had  just  been  delighting 
them  so. 

Many  years  after,  I  was  present  as  observer  on  a  some- 
what similar  occasion,  which  confronted  a  certain  speaker 
with  a  somewhat  similar  emergency.  He  met  it  in  a  very 
different  manner.  One  of  the  most  illustrious  of  living  for- 
eign missionaries,  a  man  of  commanding  character  and  com- 
manding personal  presence,  had  made,  that  evening,  a  long 
but  not  too  long,  truly  majestic  address  that  held  the  audi- 
ence spellbound  with  a  kind  of  awe  as  well  as  with  admira- 
tion and  delight.  The  weather  was  very  warm  and,  what 
with  lengthened  introductory  exercises,  the  hour  was  now 
late  when  this  speaker  closed  his  address.  It  must  have  been 
well  toward  ten  o'clock.  The  second  announced  speaker  was 
a  favorite  of  many  years  with  all  audiences  of  his  religious 
denomination.  When  he  was  called  to  the  platform,  he  very 
wisely  said  that  at  such  an  hour  he  would  not  think  of  dis- 
turbing the  impression  made  by  the  noble  address  to  which 
they  had  all  listened  with  delight  —  with  which  words  he 
turned  to  retire  from  the  platform.     Rut  the  audience  would 


420  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

not  have  it  so.  Cries  of  "  Go  on !  Go  on !  "  went  up  from 
here  and  there  a  place  in  the  crowded  auditorium.  The 
speaker  shook  his  head  in  deprecation,  and  the  cries  grew  in 
number  and  in  earnestness.  Still,  the  speaker,  bowing 
thanks  and  deprecation,  kept  on  retiring  from  the  platform. 
"  Retired,  the  more  desirable,"  expresses  what  seemed  to  be 
the  sentiment  of  the  audience.  As  with  one  voice,  they  cried 
out,  "  No,  no  !  Go  on,  go  on  !  "  They  were  now  fairly  com- 
mitted to  be  a  well-behaved  audience,  patient  at  least  to  hear 
the  speaker  whom  they  had  with  complaisance  refused  to 
excuse  from  speaking.  Responsibility  for  the  result  was 
thus,  as  it  were,  shifted  from  the  speaker  to  his  hearers,  and, 
with  some  words  delicately  hinting  that  such  was  the  case, 
the  speaker  deferred  to  his  audience  and  made  his  address. 
By  the  passage  of  back  and  forth  thus  introduced  between 
himself  and  his  audience,  the  speaker  had  successfully  trans- 
posed their  mood  to  a  mood  of  preparedness  to  hear  him 
favorably.  This  they  did,  to  such  effect  that  at  the  end  of  a 
long  address  they  were  keyed  up  again  to  a  height  of  feeling, 
different  indeed  from  that  in  which  the  preceding  speaker 
had  left  them,  but  certainly  not  less  enthusiastic  and  demon- 
strative. The  missionary  of  this  occasion  was  Dr.  William 
Ashmore,  and  the  speaker  that  followed  was  the  late  Dr. 
George  C.  Lorimer. 

Dr.  Lorimer,  had  his  occasion  been  such  as  to  admit  it  — 
which  of  course  it  was  not  —  I  can  easily  imagine,  resource- 
ful as  he  was,  striking  out  a  strain  of  improvised  pleasantry, 
before  beginning  his  address,  and  thus,  to  his  own  oratorical 
advantage,  relaxing  with  laughter  the  high-wrought  mood 
of  his  audience.  Mr.  Punshon,  I  judge,  had  not  at  com- 
mand a  vein  of  humor  or  wit  on  which  he  could  draw  at 
will,  even  when  he  was  perfectly  self-possessed.  But  the 
modulation  from  grave  to  gay,  and  then  back  again  from 
lively  to  severe,  before  an  audience,  is  one  to  be  managed 
with  the  greatest  good  judgment  and  tact.  It  would  be 
unfair  to  infer  from  the  one  instance  described  of  Mr.  Pun- 
shon's  failure  to  convert  adverse  conditions  into  opportunity 


WILLIAM  MORLEY  PUNSHON  421 

and  triumph,  that  he  might  not  prove  generally  master  of  the 
situation,  whatever  it  should  be. 

In  characterization  of  Mr.  Punshon's  published  sermons 
and  addresses,  it  deserves  to  be  said,  first  and  most  emphatic- 
ally, that  they  are  throughout  "  all  compact "  of  gospel  pure 
and  undefiled.  The  note  of  absolute  loyalty  to  Scripture  is 
everywhere  clearly  heard,  and  it  is  as  clearly  everywhere 
the  dominant  note.  To  the  lover  of  evangelic  truth  needing 
no  flavor  of  "  advanced  "  thought  to  commend  it  to  his  relish, 
this  character  in  Mr.  Punshon's  utterances  is  an  immense 
satisfaction.  Mr.  Spurgeon  himself  was  not  more  straitly 
orthodox  than  was  Mr.  Punshon.  Barring  the  difference  be- 
tween them  of  Calvinistic  and  Arminian,  the  two  men 
preached  one  and  the  same  gospel,  and  together  bore  agree- 
ing testimony  to  the  inspiration  and  authority  of  the  Bible 
as  being  throughout,  from  Genesis  to  Revelation,  the  unmixed 
Word  of  God. 

Having  thus  brought  together  these  two  great  contempo- 
rary preachers,  to  point  out  an  important  fundamental  re- 
semblance between  them,  I  find  myself  now  disposed  to  point 
out  a  particular  in  which  they  seem  to  me  to  exhibit  a  re- 
markable mutual  contrast  —  a  contrast  to  be  sure  in  form 
rather  than  in  substance,  and  yet  a  remarkable  contrast.  Mr. 
George  C.  Robinson  was  a  highly  cultivated  young  Metho- 
dist preacher,  of  the  most  gracious  character  and  of  the  most 
brilliant  promise,  who  died  prematurely  many  years  ago,  after 
a  very  prosperous  brief  pulpit  career  in  Cincinnati.  He 
edited  a  selection  of  Mr.  Punshon's  sermons  and  addresses, 
with  a  warmly  appreciative  introduction  in  the  course  of 
which  he  spoke  of  Punshon  and  Spurgeon  by  way  of  com- 
parison, making  the  following  remark  and  prognostication, 
which,  since  then,  time  thus  far  has  been  busy  signally  fal- 
sifying: 

"  Foremost  among  the  famous  dissenters  stands  the  Revs. 
C.  H.  Spurgeon  and  W.  M.  Punshon,  the  one  a  Baptist,  the 
other  a  Methodist.  The  former  has  already  won  a  world- 
wide distinction,  and  in  many  respects  he  deserves  it;  the 


422  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

other  is  making  his  way  more  slowly  but  even  more  securely. 
.  .  .  Spurgeon's  fame  sprouted  like  that  of  '  Pilgrim's 
Progress '  among  the  common  people ;  and  like  that  will  per- 
haps blossom  in  the  upper  air  of  cultivated  minds.  Punshon, 
on  the  other  hand,  with  the  favorable  verdict  of  the  literary 
sanhedrin  already  won,  from  the  habits  of  the  recluse  and 
the  formalism  of  the  scholar,  is  working  his  way  more  deeply 
into  popular  sympathies  and  current  thought." 

Mr.  Robinson  certainly  was  not  disposed  to  underestimate 
Spurgeon.  The  present  writer  had  the  privilege  of  hearing 
Spurgeon  several  times  in  Mr.  Robinson's  company,  and  he 
well  remembers  his  companion  hearer's  rather  indignant 
championship  on  the  great  preacher's  behalf,  in  reply  to  a 
whispered  hint  from  him  of  his  feeling  a  suspicion  of  com- 
monplace, at  one  point  in  the  discourse  to  which  he  was 
listening.  And  then  how,  on  the  next  succeeding  occasion, 
my  friend  triumphed  over  me !  Spurgeon,  that  morning, 
preached  a  sermon  better  deserving  to  be  characterized  as 
grand,  as  majestic,  as  a  product  of  true  genius,  than  any 
other  that  I  ever  heard  or  read  from  him.  He  seemed  to 
be  altogether  singularly  in  tune  for  the  service,  and  when 
he  read  a  hymn  before  the  sermon  in  that  magical,  musical 
voice  of  his,  I  capitulated  to  my  friend  in  the  remark,  "  That 
is  not  commonplace  reading  of  a  hymn,  I  admit !  "  Robin- 
son's only  reply  was,  "  Humph !  "  so  uttered  as  to  convey, 
without  a  trace  of  anything  like  offense  intended  on  his  part 
or  felt  on  my  own,  a  whole  volume  in  claim  of  transcendent 
merit  that  anybody  ought  to  recognize  in  such  a  man  and 
such  a  preacher  as  Spurgeon. 

What  is  it  in  the  quality  of  Spurgeon's  production,  differ- 
encing it  from  Punshon's,  that  makes  Spurgeon's  produc- 
tion live  its  remarkable  posthumous  life,  while  Punshon's  is 
to  such  a  degree  neglected?  The  answer,  I  think,  is  both 
easy  and  certain.  The  difference  lies  in  the  respective  styles 
of  the  two  men.  Spurgeon's  style  is  simple  and  natural ; 
Punshon's  style  is  elaborate  and  artificial.  Spurgeon's  style 
is  of  the  sort  that  never  goes  out  of  vogue ;  Punshon's  style 


WILLIAM  MORLEY  PUNSHON 


423 


is  of  the  sort  that  a  succeeding  generation  instinctively  feels 
to  be  a  Httle  old-fashioned. 

Now  to  say  that  a  style  is  artificial  is  not  to  condemn  it, 
but  only  to  characterize  it;  nobody,  I  think,  will  deny  that 
Punshon's  style  is  artificial.  Gibbon  wrote  in  an  artificial 
style,  and  Gibbon  was  a  great  writer.  Even  Macaulay's  style 
must  be  pronounced  artificial,  altho  indeed  it  was  a  style  per- 
fectly natural  for  Macaulay.  The  same  thing  may  be  said  of 
Ruskin's  style.  I  adduce  these  examples  to  illustrate  my 
meaning,  not  of  course  to  put  Punshon  in  the  same  class  with 
them.  His  limitations  in  point  of  judgment  and  disciplined 
taste,  in  one  word,  of  culture,  would  rule  him  out  of  it. 
"  Enstrengthening,"  "  enlifed,"  are  coinages  of  his.  A  sin- 
gle such  eccentricity  of  diction  on  a  writer's  or  a  speaker's 
part,  is  enough  to  indicate  unmistakably  a  place  for  that 
writer  or  speaker  in  a  rank  below  the  classic.  Extreme  de- 
partures like  these  from  the  norm  of  language  are,  it  is  true, 
not  very  frequent  with  Punshon,  but  there  runs  through  his 
rhetoric  a  strain  of  expression  that  the  delicate  sense  of  style 
feels  to  be  not  of  the  finest,  the  classic,  order.  He  seems 
everywhere  to  be  obeying  an  imperious  demand,  innate  in 
him,  for  rhythm,  in  the  choice  of  his  words,  in  the  turn  of 
his  phrases,  in  the  construction  of  his  periods.  If  his  early 
opportunities  of  education  had  been  better,  if  he  had  formed 
himself  upon  the  best  models  in  literature,  his  fondness  for 
rhythm,  in  itself  an  instinct  admirable  for  an  author,  but 
especially  for  an  orator,  would  have  served  him  usefully  and 
need  never  have  led  him  astray. 

Here  is  a  passage  of  really  effective,  condensed  and  rapid 
rhetorical  narrative  and  description  which,  considered  strictly 
in  itself,  deserves  nearly  unqualified  praise;  the  subject  will 
be  recognized  as  Disraeli  (the  date  of  the  address  contain- 
ing the  passage  is  1854;  Disraeli  had  not  yet  reached  the 
summit  of  his  power  and  fame)  : 

"  In  the  year  1837  a  young  member,  oriental  alike  in  his  lineage 
and   in   his   fancy,   entered   Parliament,   chivalrously   panting  for 


424 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


distinction  in  that  intellectual  arena.  He  was  already  known  as 
a  successful  three-volumer,  and  his  party  was  ready  to  hail  him 
as  a  promising  auxiliary.  Under  these  auspices  he  rose  to  make 
his  maiden  speech.  But  he  had  made  a  grand  mistake.  He  had 
forgotten  that  the  figures  of  St.  Stephen's  are  generally  arith- 
metical, and  that  superfluity  of  words,  except  in  certain  cases,  is 
regarded  as  superfluity  of  naughtiness.  He  set  out  with  the  in- 
tention to  dazzle,  but  country  gentlemen  object  to  be  dazzled 
save  on  certain  conditions.  They  must  be  allowed  to  prepare 
themselves  for  the  shock ;  they  must  have  due  notice  beforehand, 
and  the  operation  must  be  performed  by  an  established  parlia- 
mentary favorite.  In  this  case  all  these  conditions  were  wanting. 
The  speaker  was  a  parz'enu.  He  took  them  by  surprise,  and  he 
pelted  them  with  tropes  like  hail.  Hence  he  had  not  gone  far 
before  there  were  signs  of  impatience  —  by  and  by  the  ominous 
cry  of  '  Question  ' —  then  came  some  parliamentary  extravagance, 
met  by  derisive  cheers  —  cachinnatory  symptoms  began  to  develop 
themselves  until  at  last,  in  the  midst  of  an  imposing  sentence  in 
which  he  had  carried  his  audience  to  the  Vatican  and  invested 
Lord  John  Russell  with  the  temporary  custody  of  the  keys  of  St. 
Peter,  the  mirth  grew  fast  and  furious ;  somnolent  squires  woke 
up  and  joined  in  sympathy  and  the  House  resounded  with  irre- 
pressible peals  of  laughter.  Mortified  and  indignant,  the  orator 
sat  down,  closing  with  these  memorable  words :  *  I  sit  down  now, 
but  the  time  will  come  when  you  will  hear  me ! '  In  the  mortifi- 
cation of  that  night,  we  doubt  not,  was  born  a  resolute  working 
for  the  fulfilment  of  those  words.  It  was  an  arduous  struggle. 
There  were  titled  claimants  for  renown  among  his  competitors, 
and  he  had  to  break  down  the  exclusivism.  There  was  a  sus- 
picion of  political  adventuring  at  work,  and  broadly  circulated, 
and  he  had  this  to  overcome.  Above  all,  he  had  to  live  down 
the  remembrance  of  his  failure.  But  there  was  the  consciousness 
of  power,  and  the  fall  which  would  have  crushed  the  coward 
made  the  brave  man  braver.  Warily  walking  and  steadily  toiling 
through  the  chance  of  years,  seizing  the  opportunity  as  it  came 
and  always  biding  his  time,  he  climbed  upward  to  tKe  distant 
summit.  Prejudice  melted  like  snow  beneath  his  feet,  and  in 
1852,  fifteen  short  years  after  his  apparent  annihilation,  he  was  in 
her  Majesty's  Privy  Council,  styling  himself  Right  Honorable, 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  and  leader  of  the  British  House  of 
Commons." 


WILLIAM  MORLEY  PUNSHON  425 

That,  I  submit,  is  excellent  rhetorical  work.  Very  near  to 
that  passage,  however,  and  after  a  manner  introductory  to  it, 
is  some  rhetoric  not  so  good:  "Trial  is  God's  glorious  al- 
chymistry,  by  which  the  dross  is  left  in  the  crucible,  the  baser 
metals  are  transmuted,  and  the  character  is  richcd  with  the 
gold."  I  felt  it  necessary  to  say  of  the  passage  concerning 
Disraeli,  "  considered  strictly  in  itself " ;  for  where  does  it 
occur?  Who  would  imagine  such  a  place  for  it?  It  occurs 
in  a  lecture  (scarcely  differing  from  a  pulpit  discourse) 
entitled  "  The  Prophet  of  Horeb,  his  Life  and  Its  Lessons." 
Through  what  singular  caprice  of  logical  sense,  of  sense  of 
fitness,  on  the  speaker's  part,  should  a  "  lesson "  from  the 
"  life  "  of  Disraeli  find  its  way  into  a  lecture  on  Elijah,  his 
life  and  its  lessons?  Had  Mr.  Punshon's  subject  been,  for 
instance,  "  Courage  as  a  Condition  of  Success  in  Life,"  or 
"  The  Value  of  Self-confidence,"  or  "  Persistence  as  Assuring 
Attainment,"  then  the  stimulating  example  of  Disraeli's  tri- 
umph over  obstacles  would  have  been  quite  suitable  for  his 
use.     But  the  subject  was  Elijah  and  the  lessons  of  his  life. 

T  have  been  dwelling  on  what  is  perhaps  an  extreme  case 
of  Punshon's  indulgence  of  the  habit  he  had  of  importing 
matter  into  his  discourse  that  possessed  only  casual  relevancy 
to  his  subject;  but  a  very  large  proportion  of  the  whole  long 
lecture,  from  which  the  foregoing  extract  was  taken,  bears 
the  same  merely  casual  relation  to  his  theme.  The  reader 
is  haunted  with  the  feeling  that  the  lecturer  was  apprehen- 
sive of  not  having  matter  enough  to  fill  up  the  proper  measure 
of  time.  The  lecture  sets  out  with  a  passage  about  moun- 
tains and  the  great  events  associated  with  them  in  Scripture. 
(By  the  way,  "Calvary"  is  mentioned  as  if  that  was  a 
mountain,  and,  being  such,  was  rendered,  by  the  awful  event 
of  the  crucifixion,  a  suitable  climax  to  the  passage.)  Then 
follows  a  passage  (hardly  suggested  at  all)  about  the  "ex- 
quisite adaptation  "  of  the  Bible  "  to  every  necessity  of  man." 
Thus  is  postponed  the  introduction  of  Elijah  himself  for  the 
space  of  two  pages  and  a  half.  When  he  is  introduced,  he  is 
introduced  to  be  almost  immediately  dismissed.    With  the 


426  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT.  DISCOURSE 

transitional  exclamatory  remark,  "  How  often  have  we  seen 
the  main  fact  of  this  story  realized  in  later  times !  "  the  lec- 
turer goes  off  into  a  strain  of  moralizing  about  the  failure 
of  the  world  to  recognize  and  value  aright  its  seers  and 
prophets,  with  allusions,  varying  in  length,  to  Moses,  to  Gal- 
ileo, to  Columbus,  to  Harvey  (reputed  discoverer  of  the  cir- 
culation of  the  blood),  to  Bunyan,  to  William  Carey,  to  John 
Wesley.  Without  obvious  reason  then  the  lecturer  declares 
that  "  there  are  symptoms  of  returning  sanity,"  and  finds  oc- 
casion to  quote  (misquoting,  but  apparently  on  purpose)  a 
stanza  from  Tennyson.  "  That,"  he  says,  "  is  a  strong  and 
growing  world  feeling  which  the  poet  embodies  when  he 
sings : 

"  *  Believe  us !  noble  Vera  de  Veres, 

From  yon  blue  heavens  above  us  bent, 
The  grand  old  gardener  and  his  wife 
Smile  at  the  claims  of  long  descent. 

"  *  Howe'er  it  be,  it  seems  to  me 
'Tis  only  noble  to  be  good  — 
Kind  hearts  are  more  than  coronets, 
And  simple  faith  than  Norman  blood.' " 

After  a  quotation  from  Tennyson,  what  an  effect  of  an- 
achronism it  has,  and  how  far  away  it  makes  our  lecturer 
seem,  now  to  come  upon  the  following  from  Martin  Far- 
quhar  Tupper,  introduced  for  garnish,  simply  because  Elijah's 
habit  of  prayer  is  spoken  of.  "  You  can  not  have  forgotten," 
Punshon  says,  "  how  exquisitely  the  efficacy  of  prayer  is  pre- 
sented in  our  second  book  of  Proverbs: 

" '  Behold  that  fragile  form  of  delicate  transparent  beauty. 

Whose  light  blue  eye  and  hectic  cheek  are  lit  by  the  bale-fires 

of  decline ; 
Hath  not  thy  heart  said  of  her,  Alas !  poor  child  of  weakness  ? 
Thou   hast    erred;    Goliath   of   Gath   stood   not   in   half  her 
strength : 


WILLIAM  MORLEY  PUNSHON  427 

For  the  serried  ranks  of  evil  are  routed  by  the  lightning  of  her 

eye ; 
Seraphim  rally  at  her  side,  and  the  captain  of  that  host  is  God, 
For  that  weak  fluttering  heart  is  strong  in  faith  assured  — 
Dependence  is  her  might,  and  behold  —  she  prayeth,'  " 

The  rhetorical  designation  of  Tapper's  "Proverbial  Phi- 
losophy "  as  "  our  second  book  of  Proverbs,"  together  with 
the  admiring  adverb  used  in  quoting  from  it,  shows  Mr. 
Punshon's  uncritical  estimate  of  that  now  forgotten  volume 
of  "  poetry  " —  which  a  little  more  than  half  a  century  ago 
was  on  every  center-table. 

It  is  no  wonder  that  after  digressions  so  many  and  adduc- 
tion of  examples  so  various,  sometimes  so  alien  from  the 
theme  announced  in  his  title,  the  lecturer  should  recollect 
himself  to  say :  "  But  we  must  not  forget,  as  we  are  in 
some  danger  of  doing,  that  we  must  draw  our  illustrations 
mainly   from  the  life  of  Elijah "  ! 

Punshon  was  always  true  to  his  calling;  he  did  not  forget 
to  preach  when  he  lectured.  It  has  been  therefore  quite  fair 
toward  him,  and  faithful  enough  to  the  general  character  of 
these  papers  as  devoted  to  the  criticism  of  preachers,  to 
dwell  thus  long  on  a  lecture,  instead  of  a  sermon,  of  Pun- 
shon's, The  digressive  method  to  which  I  have  called  at- 
tention as  pursued  in  a  large  part  of  the  lecture,  is  adhered 
to  throughout  the  production  to  its  very  end,  as,  readers 
will  remember,  it  began  with  its  very  beginning.  The  same 
method  prevails  throughout  the  whole  volume  of  Punshon's 
published  work.  There  is  little  continuity  of  thought,  and 
therefore  little  progress  of  thought;  as  for  culmination  and 
climax  there  is  none.  The  process  is  a  process  not  of  evolu- 
tion and  growth,  but  of  agglutination.  The  relation  of 
thought  to  thought  is  not  an  organic  relation,  but  a  relation 
of  juxtaposition  only.  Still  there  is  thought,  always  whole- 
some and  helpful,  conscientiously  wrought  into  painstaking 
labored  expression.  The  speaker  does  not  spare  himself. 
He  toils  at  his  task  with  never  a  slack  moment  allowed  of 
remission  for  rest.     His  sentences  are  charged  in  every  word 


428  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

with  the  vitality  of  the  author.  This  is  high  praise,  and  this 
praise  Punshon  richly  deserves. 

In  saying  there  is  no  climax  in  this  oratory,  I  lay  myself 
liable  to  be  misunderstood.  A  striking  feature  of  Punshon's 
oratoric  style  is  the  recurrence  at  intervals  of  passages  in- 
tensely conceived  and  intensely  expressed,  upon  which  evi- 
dently the  generous  orator  has  expended  all  his  strength  with 
a  view  to  the  utmost  possible  immediate  effect.  The  con- 
clusion of  any  sermon  or  any  lecture  of  his  is  likely  to  ex- 
hibit this  character.  But  these  are  not  true  climaxes,  be- 
cause they  are  not  led  up  to ;  they  are  rather  in  the  nature  of 
deliberate  tours  de  force.  Take  the  following  for  a  fair 
example;  it  is  the  peroration  of  the  lecture  on  Elijah: 

"  There  is  hope  for  the  future.  The  world  is  moving  on.  The 
great  and  common  mind  of  humanity  has  caught  the  charm 
of  hallowed  labor.  Worthy  and  toil-worn  laborers  fall  ever  and 
anon  in  the  march,  and  their  fellows  weep  their  loss ;  and  then 
dashing  away  the  tears  which  had  blinded  them,  they  struggle  and 
labor  on.  There  has  been  an  upward  spirit  evoked  which  men  will 
not  willingly  let  die.  Young  in  its  love  of  the  beautiful,  young  in 
its  quenchless  thirst  after  the  true  we  see  that  buoyant  presence  — 

"  *  In  hand  it  bears,  'mid  snow  and  ice, 
The  banner  with  the  strange  device 

Excelsior  ! ' 

The  one  note  of  high  music  struck  from  the  great  harp  of  the 
world's  heart-strings  is  graven  on  that  banner.  The  student 
breathes  it  at  his  midnight  lamp ;  the  poet  groans  it  forth  in  those 
spasms  of  his  soul  when  he  can  not  fling  his  heart's  beauty  upon 
language.  Fair  fingers  have  wrought  in  secret  at  that  banner. 
Many  a  child  of  poverty  has  felt  its  motto  in  his  soul  like  the 
last  vestige  of  lingering  divinity.  The  Christian  longs  it  when 
his  faith,  piercing  the  invisible,  desires  a  better  country  —  that  is, 
an  heavenly.  Excelsior!  Excelsior!  Brothers,  let  us  speed 
onward  the  youth  who  holds  that  banner.     Up,  up,  brave  spirit! 

"'Climb  the  steep  and  starry  road 
To  the  Infinite's  abode.' 


WILLIAM  MORLEY  PUNSHON 


429 


Up,  up,  brave  spirit !    Spite  of  Alpine  steep  and  frowning  brow 

—  roaring  blast  and  crashing  flood  —  up!  Science  has  many  a 
glowing  secret  to  reveal  thee.  Faith  has  many  a  Tabor-pleasure 
to  inspire.  Ha!  does  the  cloud  stop  thy  progress?  Pierce 
through  it  to  the  sacred  morning.  Fear  not  to  approach  the 
Divinity;  it  is  His  own  longing  which  impels  thee.  Thou  art 
speeding  to  thy  coronation,  brave  spirit!  Up.  up,  brave  spirit! 
till  as  thou  pantest  on  the  crest  of  thy  loftiest  achievement  God's 
glory  shall  burst  upon  thy  face;  and  God's  voice,  blessing  thee 
from  His  throne  in  tones  of  approval  and  of  welcome,  shall  de- 
liver thy  guerdon.  '  I  have  made  thee  a  little  lower  than  the 
angels,  and  crowned  thee  with  glory  and  honor ! '  " 

Otie  reads  such  a  passage  as  the  foregoing,  not  naturally 
led  up  to  at  all  in  the  progress  of  the  discourse,  and  is  almost 
tempted  to  look  for  "  Plaudite!"  at  the  end,  uttered  by  the 
speaker  after  the  manner  of  the  ancient  Roman  comedians 

—  it  seems  so  evidently  to  invite  a  sympathetic  admiring  re- 
sponse from  the  audience.  Such  a  response  it  no  doubt  ob- 
tained, if  not  an  audible  response  from  hand  and  mouth,  at 
least  a  silent  response  in  the  heart  of  every  hearer.  The  ad- 
dress was  delivered  before  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Asso- 
ciation in  Exeter  Hall.  If  the  history  of  its  effect  could  be 
traced,  there  is  little  question  that  a  quickened  impulse  to- 
ward what  is  noblest  and  best  in  character  and  in  conduct 
would  prove  to  have  resulted  in  the  breast  of  many  a  young 
man  among  the  hearers.  Mr.  Punshon  himself  stood  there 
before  them  a  shining  exemplar  of  virtuous  manhood,  and,  in 
reinforcement  of  influence  from  that  eloquent  fact,  there  was 
the  arousing,  the  electric,  delivery.  This  preacher,  by  the 
consenting  testimony  of  all  competent  witnesses,  was  in  his 
happiest  moments  master  of  a  singularly  potent  elocution. 
And  it  should  not  fail  to  be  acknowledged  and  remembered 
that,  of  true  and  living  eloquence,  elocution  constitutes  at 
least  one-half  —  elocution,  delivery,  being  probably  what  the 
famous  "  Action !  action !  action !  "  of  the  ancient  orator 
meant,  when  he  gave  that  word  three  times  over  as  the 
secret  of  eloquence. 


430  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

One  gentleman  of  high  intelligence,  a  warm  admirer  of 
Punshon's  oratory,  while  sagaciously  critical  of  it  withal, 
spoke  of  him  lately  to  me  in  comparison  and  contrast  with 
Bishop  Simpson.  He  had  enjoyed  in  his  younger  days  the 
privilege  of  hearing  the  great  preacher  during  the  time  when 
the  latter  was  achieving  his  useful  and  brilliant  pulpit  career 
in  Canada.  He  said  that  whereas  Bishop  Simpson  had  gen- 
uinely **  inspirational  "  moments,  in  which  with  overpowering 
bursts  of  spontaneous,  unpremeditated  eloquence  he  swept 
everything  before  him,  all  was  studiously  prepared  in  ad- 
vance with  Punshon.  I  may  be  permitted  to  raise  the  ques- 
tion, Were  there  not  "  inspirational "  moments  with  Punshon 
too,  affecting  not  indeed  either  the  thought  or  the  rhetoric  of 
his  discourse  (which  had  been  elaborated  to  the  last  detail 
in  the  closet  of  the  orator),  but  the  elocution  with  which 
certain  passages  would  be  delivered  ? 

Sixteen  years  after  the  date  of  the  lecture  on  Elijah, 
Punshon,  in  the  mellow  maturity  of  his  powers,  preached  in 
Toronto,  Ontario,  to  candidates  for  the  Christian  ministry 
a  sermon  which  he  entitled  "  The  Ministerial  Commission." 
This  sermon  is  well  worth  reading  for  its  reflection  of  the 
preacher's  own  noble  ministerial  character.  It  presents  a 
pure  and  high  ideal  of  the  Christian  minister's  mission  in  the 
world.  It  could  not  but  have  had  a  penetrative  tonic  effect 
on  the  young  men  to  whom  it  was  especially  addressed  in 
Toronto.  It  is  perhaps  as  good  a  specimen  production  for 
study  of  Punshon's  method  and  style,  and  of  his  elevated 
spiritual  quality,  at  its  ripest  and  best,  as  would  be  found  in 
any  single  one  of  his  extant  discourses. 

On  the  whole,  William  Morley  Punshon,  alike  as  man,  as 
Christian,  and  as  preacher,  is  a  tradition  to  be  cherished,  by 
eminence  among  Methodists,  but  also  throughout  all  the  divi- 
sions, of  whatever  name,  of  the  church  universal.  He  served 
well  his  own  generation  by  the  will  of  God,  and  he  bequeathed 
a  precious  heritage  of  blameless  memory  to  the  generations 
following. 


XVIII 
EZEKIEL  OILMAN  KOBINSON 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE. 

In  the  paper  now  to  follow,  the  reader  will  be  sure  to 
feel  a  certain  difiference  of  tone  in  treatment  of  its  subject, 
discriminating  it  from  all  its  companions  in  the  present 
series  of  criticisms.  This  particular  criticism,  while  it  does 
not,  as  it  should  not,  avoid  criticising,  partakes,  more  than 
do  the  other  criticisms,  of  the  character  of  a  personal  trib- 
ute. Such  a  change  in  tone  was,  as  it  were,  inevitable; 
for  in  this  case  the  critic  was  a  pupil  dealing  with  a  teacher. 
A  kind  of  junior  loyalty,  bordering  on  filial  reverence,  would 
here,  he  thought,  be  pardonable  in  the  critic,  nay,  would 
almost  be  imposed  upon  him  as  an  obligation,  by  the  inherent 
fitness  of  things. 


433 


EZEKIEL  OILMAN  ROBINSON 

The  subject  of  this  brief  paper  was  in  every  respect  — 
physically,  mentally,  morally  —  a  striking  personality.  One 
comes  to  associate  so  inseparably  the  physical  aspect  and 
impression  of  a  man  with  that  man's  peculiar  type  of  mental 
and  moral  character,  that  it  is  perhaps  not  often  safe,  in  any 
given  case,  to  say  that  there  was  from  the  beginning  an 
inherent,  an  inevitable,  "  preestablished  harmony "  between 
the  one  and  the  other.  But  certainly  if  to  say  so  be,  in  any 
case  whatsoever,  safe,  then  it  would  seem  to  be  safe  in  the 
case  of  Dr.  Robinson. 

His  tall  form,  not  always  erect,  but  always  capable  of  erect- 
ing itself,  and  upon  fit  oratoric  occasion  frequently  doing  so 
with  commanding  effect ;  his  habitual  carriage,  naturally  dig- 
nified and  gentleman-like,  but  of  a  character  betokening  it 
that  of  a  person  who  scorned  to  be  finical,  and  who  might 
surprise  you  with  a  sudden  manly  breach  of  the  conven- 
tional ;  his  gait,  the  stalwart  stride  of  a  man  intent  on  getting 
forward,  while  in  will,  as  in  locomotive  equipment,  amply 
able  to  get  forward,  and  that  with  speed  too  such  as  would 
put  you  upon  your  mettle  to  keep  up  with  him;  his  voice,  a 
mint  of  the  clearest-cut,  freshest-stamped  utterance,  given 
forth  in  tones  keen,  incisive,  insistent,  penetrative,  tones  fond 
of  the  high  key  natural  to  a  mind  consciously  pressing  to  a 
point  perfectly  well  perceived  ahead,  but  ready  at  times  to 
bottom  out  into  a  solid,  hearty,  rich,  vibrant,  pectoral  quality 
—  all  these  outward  traits  in  Dr.  Robinson  you  felt  to  be  but 
the  reflex  of  the  manner  of  man  that  he  inwardly  and 
essentially  was. 

Have  I  seemed  to  describe  a  man  in  whom  the  challenging, 
the  aggressive,  the  belligerent,  spirit  predominated?  Well, 
complaisance  was  undoubtedly  not  the  chief  note  of  Dr.  Rob- 

434 


EZEKIEL  OILMAN  ROBINSON  435 

inson's  character.  Still,  there  was  fineness  in  him,  as  well  as 
strength.  His  heart  was  tender  and  true  when  you  got  to  it, 
altho  he  was  indeed  far  from  wearing  it  on  his  sleeve. 
And  running  all  through  his  intellectual  constitution  was  a 
vein  of  the  genuinely  imaginative  and  poetical.  I  can  testify 
to  the  fact  that  when,  in  his  fresh  manly  prime,  he  first  came 
from  pastorship  in  Cincinnati  to  Rochester  as  teacher  of  the- 
ology, and  there  immediately  began  to  make  himself  felt  as  a 
preacher  of  extraordinary  power  and  brilliancy,  one  of  the 
traits  in  him  that  gained  him  the  adhesion  and  admiration  of 
the  most  cultivated  and  the  choicest  among  the  students,  both 
of  the  seminary  and  of  the  college,  was  the  openness,  the 
hospitality,  that  he  displayed  to  the  influence  of  the  poets  — 
this,  with  the  occasional  gleam,  as  of  original  poetry,  that 
lighted  up  his  eloquence. 

It  seems  to  me  now,  as  I  recall  the  cycle  of  discourses 
which  Dr.  Robinson  delivered  on  the  then  current  phases  of 
religious  skepticism,  during  the  autumn  and  winter  of  the 
first  year  of  his  memorable  work  in  Rochester,  that  he  never 
afterward  surpassed  the  triumphs  of  that  period  of  his  pulpit 
achievement.  I  know  of  a  circle  of  young  men  —  friends 
they  were  in  perpetual  council  as  to  things  of  the  spirit  — 
among  the  Rochester  students,  who  used  as  often  as  possible 
to  meet  after  each  one  of  the  evening  discourses  now  alluded 
to,  and  discuss  it  in  a  prolonged  symposium  of  mutually  ex- 
citing and  excited  admiration  and  delight.  The  present 
writer,  then  a  college  freshman,  but  admitted  by  special  priv- 
ilege to  quasi-equal  fraternal  relationship  of  intellect  with 
certain  choice  spirits  of  the  theologues,  was  one  of  this,  alas, 
now  long  since  unsoldered  roundtable.  He  taught  a  district 
school  fifteen  miles  away  from  the  city,  during  a  part  of  the 
time  covered  by  the  delivery  of  those  memorable  discourses. 
This  prevented  his  hearing  the  whole  series. 

There  was  one  signal  occasion,  however,  which  he,  though 
so  far  away,  felt  that  he  could  not  miss.  After  preaching 
himself  twice,  that  Sunday,  sermons  prepared  under  pressure 
of  a  sudden  call,  in  the  midst  of  a  week  filled  to  the  brim 


436  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT.  DISCOURSE 

with  six  days'  teaching  (six  hours  each  day),  he  walked 
those  fifteen  miles  to  Rochester,  that  he  might  hear  Dr. 
Robinson  on  Theodore  Parker.  (This  lover  of  pulpit  elo- 
quence had  in  addition  previously  walked  two  miles  out  and 
two  miles  back  between  house  and  church  to  do  his  own 
preaching.)  I  mention  this  incident  to  illustrate  the  enthu- 
siasm aroused  by  Dr.  Robinson's  pulpit  eloquence  of  that 
time.  The  particular  demonstration  described  was  no  doubt 
a  specimen  of  individual  youthful  extravagance;  but  it  was 
such  extravagance  as  was  little  likely  to  have  occurred  with- 
out a  surrounding  atmosphere  of  contagious  enthusiasm  to 
encourage  and  support  it. 

The  discourses  thus  recalled  were,  like  Dr.  Robinson's  dis- 
courses in  general  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  his 
conspicuous  career,  delivered  ex  tempore.  And  now  I  must 
say  something  which,  save  to  the  most  thoughtful,  will  seem 
like  derogation  from  the  praise  that  I  bestow ;  to  some  it  will 
seem,  on  the  contrary,  enhancement,  rather  than  diminution, 
of  eulogy.  Brilliant,  then,  as  those  discourses  were,  and 
powerful,  they  yet  fell  something  short  of  that  decisively 
triumphant  effect  in  oratory  of  which  the  speaker  seemed  all 
the  time  tantalizingly  capable.  This  was,  I  think,  the  case 
with  Dr.  Robinson's  public  discourse  generally.  There  was 
a  certain  lack  of  abandon,  a  certain  self-checking  refusal  on 
the  part  of  the  preacher  to  trust  himself  wholly  to  the  sweep 
of  the  inspiration  that  was  perpetually  swelling  within  him 
almost,  but  not  quite,  to  the  volume  and  the  head  that  would 
burst  every  barrier  and  pour  forth  eloquence  in  an  irresistible 
torrent,  in  an  overwhelming  flood. 

I  account  for  this  just  missing,  on  Dr.  Robinson's  part, 
of  the  supreme  achievement  in  oratory,  chiefly  by  two  con- 
siderations: one  pertaining  to  the  personal  constitution  of 
the  man,  and  the  other  incidental  to  the  occupation  of  his  life. 
Dr.  Robinson  was  primarily  a  teacher,  and  but  secondarily  a 
preacher.  His  habit  in  utterance  was  formed  and  was  con- 
trolled by  the  practice  of  the  classroom  rather  than  by  the 
practice  of  the  pulpit.    He  thought  in  brief,  rapid  "  swallow- 


EZEKIEL  OILMAN  ROBINSON 


437 


flights "  of  the  mind,  rather  than  in  long,  continuous,  sus- 
tained voyages  to  a  goal  far-off,  but  clearly  perceived  and 
definitely  aimed  at. 

He  seemed  to  challenge  and  invite  interpellation  from  his 
hearers.  This  he  often  secured  in  the  classroom;  and  then 
it  was  that  he  appeared  in  the  full  glory  and  pov^^er  of  his 
extemporary  eloquence.  He  perhaps  needed  such  perfectly 
sensible  and  unmistakable  reaction  on  the  part  of  his  audience, 
to  bring  him  out  in  the  plenitude  of  his  incredibly  swift  and 
ready  play  of  intellect  and  of  imagination. 

"  To  that,  three  things  may  be  replied,"  was  almost  a 
formula  with  him,  when  a  student  would  state  an  objection 
to  some  point  made  by  the  teacher.  "  In  the  first  place," 
and  Dr.  Robinson  would  launch  himself  full  speed  at  once 
in  reply,  with  lightning-like  celerity  and  infallible  precision 
of  aim.  The  effect  was  incalculably  enhanced  by  an  unsur- 
passed, unsurpassable,  clearness,  accuracy,  emphasis,  mo- 
mentum, of  articulation  and  utterance,  sufficient  in  them- 
selves to  have  produced  a  complete  illusion  of  the  intellec- 
tual quality  corresponding,  even  had  that  quality  been,  as 
it  was  not,  wanting.  The  chances  were  even  that  the  sec- 
ond and  third  of  the  "  three  things  "  would  not  be  reached. 
To  me,  as  pupil,  it  was  often  in  some  respectful  doubt 
whether  the  "  three  things  "  were  as  clearly  present  to  my 
teacher's  mind,  at  the  moment  of  his  venturing  to  assert 
their  existence,  as  in  his  own  confident  conviction  they  were 
at  least  potentially  available,  and  safe,  at  need,  to  be  de- 
pended upon  for  yielding  themselves  up  to  the  quest  of  that 
imperious  and  importunate  intellect  of  his.  In  truth,  and 
tho  it  be  a  thing  paradoxical  to  say,  Dr.  Robinson's  habitual 
manner  of  challenge  and  self-confidence  appeared  to  me  the 
unconscious  self-rallying  expedient  of  a  nature  sincerely  mod- 
est, even  timid,  much  more  than  that  outward  expression  of 
a  brusque,  domineering,  overbearing,  brow-beating  spirit  in 
the  man,  which  by  the  casual  observer  it  might  easily  be 
mistaken  to  be. 

This  leads  naturally  to  the  stating  of  the  second  one  of 


438  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

the  two  considerations  which  to  me  chiefly  account  for  Dr. 
Robinson's  not  being  in  fact  quite  the  supremely  triumphant 
orator  that  he  seemed  in  almost  all  respects  so  capable  of 
being.  Notwithstanding  his  high,  half-haughty,  half-scorn- 
ful, outward  air  of  audacious  self-assertion,  Dr.  Robinson 
was  at  bottom  too  modestly  doubtful  of  himself,  or,  if  you 
please,  he  had  too  much  wise  disdain  of  pretending  to  be, 
where  he  knew  he  was  not,  altogether  sure  of  his  ground; 
in  a  word,  he  was  too  much  a  thinker,  pure  and  simple,  with 
the  thinker's  circumspect  speculation  and  misgiving,  to  be 
the  bold  mere  voice  that  the  popular  orator  has  need  to  be. 

It  is  hardly  a  third  consideration,  tho  it  admits  of  being 
named  as  such,  the  fact  that  Dr.  Robinson's  equipment 
was  too  predominantly  of  the  intellect,  rather  than  of  the 
heart,  to  constitute  him  the  ideal  orator.  "  Rather  than 
of  the  heart,"  I  say.  But  it  is  of  what  I  may  call  public, 
not  private,  heart  that  I  speak.  Toward  his  friends,  and 
especially  toward  his  kindred,  the  people  of  his  home,  Dr. 
Robinson,  I  should  do  him  wrong  not  also  to  say,  had  a 
capacity  of  the  most  exquisite,  the  most  costly,  affection. 
Yet  it  remains  true  that,  altho  for  personal  friendship  and 
for  the  intimacies  of  the  hearth,  thus  choicely  and  richly 
endowed,  he  was  comparatively  wanting  in  that  broad,  that 
genial,  that  common,  quality  of  temperament  which  seems 
often  to  inscribe  the  elect  popular  favorite's  heart,  Fro  bono 
publico,  and  offer  it  freely  for  daws  to  peck  at.  But  this 
very  characteristic  in  Dr.  Robinson  helped  make  him,  helped 
keep  him,  the  teacher,  in  his  kind  not  easily  equaled  among 
his  coevals,  that  he  was  universally  acknowledged  to  be. 

Apart  from  the  orator  and  the  educator  that  he  was.  Dr. 
Robinson  was  potentially  a  literary  man  of  a  very  high 
order.  I  have  just  now  been  re-reading  the  inaugural  ad- 
dress delivered  by  him  on  the  occasion  of  his  being  inducted 
into  his  office  as  professor  of  theology  at  Rochester  in  1853. 
Dr.  Maginnis,  a  clear  and  venerable  name  in  Baptist  educa- 
tional history,  had,  not  long  before,  died  while  occupying 
the  place  in  which  Dr.  Robinson  now  stood  as  his  successor. 


EZEKIEL  OILMAN  ROBINSON  439 

Here  are  the  sentences  with  which  the  inaugural  address 
begins.  Will  any  qualified  critic  of  literature  undertake  to 
name  a  single  point  at  which,  for  brevity,  simplicity,  sincerity, 
measure,  fitness  —  and  to  this  list  of  traits  desirable  in  style, 
I  might  almost,  as  to  turn  of  expression,  add  two  traits  more, 
felicity  and  grace  —  will,  I  ask,  any  good  critic  find  a  point 
at  which  these  sentences  are  wanting?  The  buried  Words- 
worthian  quotation  and  allusion  in  them  takes  on  a  value 
not  less  really  poetical,  and  distinctly  more  substantial,  than 
that  belonging  to  the  lines  of  the  original : 

"  The  service  that  has  brought  us  here  this  evening  cannot  but 
turn  the  first  thoughts  of  most  of  us  to  one  who  a  twelvemonth 
ago  was  in  life  and  among  us,  but  who  to-night  sleeps  with  the 
dead.  And,  surely,  it  is  fitting,  that  in  passing  to  the  evening's 
reflections,  we  take  his  resting  place  in  our  way.  The  thoughts 
that  are  to  engage  us  will  take  a  sober  coloring  from  eyes  that 
have  but  glanced  at  the  tomb,  especially  the  tomb  that  conceals 
from  us  so  much  of  intellect  and  piety.  It  might  be  profitable 
even  to  linger  here  in  our  meditations ;  it  would  strengthen  our 
courage  to  look  steadily  at  the  example  of  one,  who,  while  com- 
pelled, his  life  long,  to  defend  himself  against  the  attacks  of  dis- 
ease with  the  one  hand,  could  yet  with  the  other  accomplish  so 
much  for  the  Master. 

"  But  he  needs  no  memorial  at  our  hands ;  and,  least  of  all,  in 
this  place,  where  genius  and  sanctified  friendship  have  already 
presented  one  inimitable  in  its  beauty  and  eloquence.  [The 
allusion  is,  I  believe,  to  a  discourse  pronounced  by  Dr.  William 
R.  Williams,  but  modestly  withheld  by  him  from  print.]  Indeed, 
he  had  engraved  a  memorial  for  himself  on  the  spirits  of  his 
pupils.  He  had  erected  to  himself  a  monument  in  every  mind 
that  had  felt  the  power  of  his  influence.  The  monuments  of  his 
worth  and  witnesses  of  his  toils  are  here,  and  are  scattered 
throughout  our  land.    His  works  will  be  still  praising  him. 

"  But  to  stand  in  his  vacant  place,  and  take  up  his  work  where 
he  left  it,  is  certainly  no  idle  undertaking.  You  know  how  sad 
and  solemn  is  the  task  laid  on  him  who  is  made  to  lift,  with 
untried  hand,  the  staff  that  dropped  from  the  hand  of  such  ex- 
perience. Your  sympathies  and  prayers,  I  am  confident,  may  be 
relied  on  for  the  future;  for  the  present,  your  kindly  attention 


440 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


is  bespoken,  while  a  delineation  is  attempted  of  the  need  and  the 
advantages,  in  our  day,  of  what,  for  the  want  of  a  better  phrase- 
ology, may  be  denominated  Experimental  Theology." 

Something  like  the  same  awe,  as  in  the  presence  of  the 
noble  dead,  that  inspired  the  foregoing  exordium,  usurps 
now  the  present  writer's  mind  in  concluding  what  he  must 
acknowledge  to  be  rather  a  very  inadequate  tribute  to  the 
memory  of  Dr.  Robinson  than  an  exhaustive  criticism  of 
his  pulpit  eloquence.  If  former  students  of  his  suffer  them- 
selves ever  to  recall  that  the  teacher  whom  they  so  much 
admire  sometimes  indulged,  to  a  degree  beyond  what  was 
wisest  and  best,  in  a  certain  disdain  as  toward  fellows  of 
his,  perhaps  less  gifted,  or  even  less  elevated  in  character, 
than  he  was  himself,  then  those  students  will  be  irresistibly 
reminded  likewise  that  as  toward  one  personage  at  least, 
that  lofty,-  that  imperial,  spirit  always  uncovered  himself 
with  a  reverence  and  an  awe  that  was  as  unreserved  and  as 
absolute  as  it  was  unquestionably  sincere.  There  is  no 
image  of  my  revered  teacher  in  theology  dearer  to  memory 
with  me,  none  spiritually  more  helpful,  than  the  image  of 
that  noble  head,  silver  in  advance  of  its  time,  declined  in 
reverence  before  the  invisible  Christ,  while  the  repressed 
manly  voice  vibrated  out  its  rich,  sweet  tones  in  prayer, 
amid  the  gathering  glooms  of  the  twilight-tide,  at  the  close 
of  the  daily  two-hour  session  of  the  classes,  in  the  little 
upper  room  where  we  met  in  the  seminary  at  Rochester. 

Whatever  else  fail  from  my  mind  of  the  memory  of  Dr. 
Robinson,  let  that  august,  that  pathetic,  image  of  him,  ador- 
ing, abide ! 


The  sonnets  following,  all  of  them,  relate  respec- 
tively to  the  subjects  of  the  preceding  criticisms.  They 
are  here  given  anonymously,  in  an  order  of  arrange- 
ment not  at  all  corresponding  with  that  in  which  the 
criticisms  appear.  This  accordingly  will  be  found  no 
guide  in  assigning  the  sonnets  severally  to  their  proper 
subjects.  The  criticisms  themselves  will,  it  is  believed, 
to  the  careful  reader  of  them,  prove  sufificient  means  for 
determining  the  true  distribution.  In  a  volume  of  col- 
lected "  Poems  "  by  the  present  author,  recently  issued, 
a  number  of  these  sonnets  appear  with  the  names  of 
their  subjects  frankly  printed. 


441 


XIX 

I 

Behold  him  standing  there,  erect  and  tall, 

Watched  by  those  thousands  of  fixed,  eager  eyes. 
Hear  him.    That  voice!    What  matter  of  surprise 

The  heartsome  accents  hold  his  hearers  all 

Rapt  and  suspended  in  delightful  thrall? 

So  frank,  free,  generous,  cordial  in  his  guise, 
He  seems  to  hail  you  comrade,  comrade-wise, 

And  for  response  of  comrade  from  you  call. 

The  happy  genius  to  be  grateful  his, 
And  an  engaging  fondness  for  profuse 

Profession  of  indebtedness  it  is, 
That  in  such  presence  laps  you  in  sweet  truce 

To  other  than  all  noble  thought  and  high, 

And  one  large  love  to  all  beneath  the  sky. 


443 


444  MODERN  MASTERS 


II 

Cold  as  the  cold  white  icefields  of  the  pole, 
But  as  the  northern  dawn  above  them,  bright  — 
Kindling  the  crystal  spaces  of  the  night  — 

He  boltless,  heatless  lightnings  of  the  soul, 

From  lips  untouched  with  any  living  coal 
By  seraph  off  the  altar  brought  alight, 
Launched,  in  a  splendor  feasting  full  the  sight, 

But  to  the  heart  a  blank,  unwritten  scroll. 

Lone,  insulated  by  his  quality  — 
A  priest,  a  Jesuit,  and  a  celibate  — 

Among  his  fellows  sundered  from  them,  he 
Vainly,  by  such  a  difference  separate, 

Essayed,  with  all  that  brilliancy  of  speech. 

His  hearers  in  their  true,  deep  self  to  retch. 


OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


445 


III 

Pulpit  extravaganzist  uncontrolled, 
As  heady  as  a  wild  ass  racing  free 
And  snuffing  up  the  wind!    So,  scorning  he 

Pathway  by  other  footsteps  beaten,  bold, 

To  trackless  regions,  over  mountains  old, 
He  hied  him  where  his  flying  feet  would  flee 
All  following,  since  no  mortal  eye  could  see 

They  did  to  any  clear  direction  hold ! 

But  there  at  least  he  thundered  on  in  tread 
As  masterful  as  wayward,  and  no  less 

Unweariable.     And,  strange  thing  to  be  said, 
That  wild-ass  ranger  of  the  wilderness 

From  each  excursion  brought  some  gospel  bread 
Wherewith  the  gaping,  hungering  soul  to  bless ! 


446  MODERN  MASTERS 


IV 

He  seemed  sometimes  a  spiritual  Prospero 
Cunning  to  conjure  tempest,  and  control  — 
Invisible  tempest  in  the  secret  soul, 

Awful  and  silent,  deep  clouds  hanging  low 

Full  charged  with  thunder  threatening  future  woe 
Unspeakable,  and  everduring  dole, 
To  whomso  they  should  break  upon  and  roll 

Their  burden  —  found  to  God  a  final  foe. 

Nay,  not  as  master  of  some  magic  spell 
Worked  he  those  wonders  in  the  realm  of  mind; 

Rather  it  was  but  by  believing  well, 
And  to  obedience  biding  still  inclined. 

That,  as  once  Aaron  with  his  wielded  rod, 

This  potent  man  became  the  power  of  God. 


OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


447 


He  might  have  been  a  ruler  of  the  earth ; 
With  his  ascendent  gifts  in  many  a  kind, 
Gifts  of  the  body,  nobler  of  the  mind, 

He  was  a  sovereign  by  the  right  of  birth. 

Rich  in  his  dower  of  simple  human  worth, 
Wisdom  he  added,  will,  sure  tact  to  find. 
By  the  deep  guess  of  sympathy  divined. 

Way  to  men's  hearts  through  pathos  or  through  mirth. 

Clear  like  a  silver  trumpet  rang  his  voice, 
Soft  like  a  lute,  and  like  an  organ  strong; 

Its  music  made  the  multitudes  rejoice, 
Charming  the  ear  with  eloquence  like  song. 

Men    would    have   crowned    him;    other    was    his 
choice  — 
Crowning  from  Him  to  whom  all  crowns  belong! 


448  MODERN  MASTERS 


iVI 

Such  light,  such  heat,  such  life,  such  cheer,  such 
power. 

Effulgent  far,  like  virtue  from  the  sun. 

In  flood  on  flood  all  bounds  to  overrun 
And,  unexhausted  still  from  hour  to  hour, 
Pour  everywhere  profuse  its  affluent  dower, 

Lavishing  largess  free  on  every  one, 

Wealthy  or  poor  or  happy  or  undone. 
Welcomed  to  sit  beneath  the  golden  shower ! 

This,  yesterday ;  today,  a  different  world ; 
A  living  splendor  in  its  fountain  quenched, 

A  great  light-giver  from  its  station  hurled. 
Sudden,  as  had  the  midday  sun  been  wrenched 

Out  of  his  orbit,  or  his  beams  been  furled. 
And  the  whole  earth  in  other  climate  drenched ! 


OF   PULPIT   DISCOURSE  449 


VII 

Already  half,  by  his  commanding  height, 

Sufficient,  nay,  superfluous  and  to  spare, 

Whence  fully  to  erect  it  little  care  — 
Beetling  oft  toward  you  overshadowed  quite. 
Like  some  deep-sunk  cliff-overshadowed  bight  — 

Already  thus  he,  tall  and  imminent,  and  an  air 

As  if  of  haughty  challenge  unaware, 
Had,  ere  he  spoke,  asserted,  half,  his  might. 

But  when  he  spoke  —  that  tense,  incisive  voice, 
In  pure  strong  tones  through  all  its  compass  rang- 
ing. 

Articulation  exquisitely  choice, 

However  to  precipitate  movement  changing. 

Imagination,  the  word- winged  thought !  — 

Still  greater  he  than  the  great  things  he  wrought. 


cc 


450 


MODERN  MASTERS 


VIII 

A  PURE,  if  but  a  transitory,  flame. 

Bright  while  he  lived,  tho  doomed  with  him  to  die, 

He  like  a  meteor  flashed  across  the  sky 
Drawing  a  trail  as  of  enduring  fame, 
Fed  from  the  very  substance  of  his  frame 

Which  he  burned  freely  in  ambition  high 

With  whatsoever  starry  light  to  vie, 
In  everlasting  constancy  the  same. 

It  was  not  so  to  be ;  yet  not  the  less 
Otherwise  he  an  arduous  end  achieved ; 

There  is  succeeding,  that  is  not  success 
In  compassing  the  purpose  you  conceived. 

Aspiring  and  endeavoring  so,  he  wrought 

Nobly,  and  by  but  his  example  taught. 


OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


451 


IX 

If  the  sun  blazing  in  a  cloudless  sky 
At  midnopn,  in  the  fulness  of  his  power 
And  glory,  should,  at  his  meridian  tower, 

Be  smitten  and  sent  ruining  from  on  high, 

In  dark  thenceforth  forever  lost  to  lie: 
Or,  if  that  same  sun,  holding  still  his  dower 
Of  steadfastness  in  station,  hour  by  hour 

Should  suffer  alteration  to  the  eye, 
Malignant  alteration !  from  his  bright 

Appearance  and  intensity  of  pure 

To  aspect  sinister,  from  whence  no  light 

But  only  darkness  visible ;  assure 

Me,  for,  myself,  I  am  not  sure,  which  sight 

Would  of  his  fame  and  fate  be  symbol  truer ! 


453  MODERN  MASTERS 


Oh,  well-beloved  voice  !    Never  to  be 

Heard  in  our  councils !    Hence  forever  flown ! 
No  more  that  haunting  pathos  in  the  tone 

To  witch  us  with  its  wistful  melody ! 

Nay,  but  the  voice  it  was  not.     It  was  he, 

Himself,  the  man,  the  Christian,  therein  shown; 

The  regal  pride  not  driven  from  its  throne, 
But  chastened  to  a  high  humility; 

The  opulent  sweet  worldly  wisdom,  blent 
With  such  clear  innocence  of  worldly  guile; 

Learning,  to  service  of  his  fellows  lent; 
The  gift  of  sympathy  in  tear  or  smile; 

The  upward  vision  on  the  heavens  intent  — 
These  were  what  won  us  with  resistless  wile. 


OF   PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


453 


XI 

He  was  a  gracious  figure,  dear  to  men 
By  merit,  but  by  fortune  yet  more  dear. 
Pausing  a  moment  once  in  mid-career 

He  told  the  story  of  his  life.     Now  when 

Men  saw  he  did  this  gracefully,  and  then 
His  fair  fame  from  aspersion  foul  to  clear. 
They  read  him  with  magnanimous  cheer  on  cheer, 

Gave  him  their  hearts,  since  he  gave  them  his  —  pen ! 

It  grew  at  length  the  vogue  to  praise  his  style : 
The  praise  was  partly  generous  tribute  paid 

To  one  nigh  alien  in  his  native  isle ; 
Partly  it  was  mere  complaisance  men  laid 

At  one's  feet  whom  in  true  effect  the  while 
They  flouted  —  by  not  heeding  what  he  said ! 


454 


MODERN   MASTERS 


XII 

A  MISPLACED  schoolman  of  the  Middle  Age, 
Out  of  due  time  by  misadventure  born 
And  on  our  generation  cast,  forlorn 

Of  fellowships  his  proper  heritage  — 

Congenial  comrades  of  the  mind  to  wage 
His  equal  combats  with  of  lore,  in  scorn 
Of  mean  advantage,  radiant  like  the  morn 

Each  combatant  with  ardor  for  the  gage ! 

By  the  Time-spirit  cowed,  not  he !     That  front 
He  faced  instead,  and  gave  it  frown  for  frown, 

The  bullying  brag  and  swagger  it  was  wont 
To  see  the  rest  incontinent  go  down 

Before,  he  laughed  to  scorn.     In  battle-brunt 
For  the  ascended  Christ  he  won  his  crown ! 


OF.  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


455 


XIII 

How  is  the  strong  staff  broken,  and  the  rod 
Beautiful  long  before  so  many  eyes ! 
We,  with  habitual  comfort,  saw  it  rise. 

Like  a  tall  palm  high  regnant  o'er  the  sod 

Where  to  the  breeze  its  fronded  branches  nod, 
The  stateliest  thing  beneath  the  sunny  skies, 
Yet  bountiful  as  stately,  its  great  prize 

Of  fruitage  yielding  yearly,  blest  of  God ! 

Such  yesterday  was  he ;  but  prostrate  now 
He  stretches  that  imperial  stature  fair, 

The  shapely  column,  the  fruit-bearing  bough, 
Ruined  along  the  ground,  and,  look  ye,  where 

He  stood  late,  lifting  up  his  kingly  brow, 
Void  —  and  a  desolation  in  the  air ! 


456  MODERN   MASTERS 


XIV 

A  MASSIVE  mind,  informed  at  last  with  grace 
Through  culture,  culture  sedulous  and  long, 
And    through    high    choice,    outside    the    common 
throng. 

Of  the  selected  spirits  of  the  race 

Sought  widely  in  whatever  time  or  place 

For  his  companionship,  the  wise  and  strong, 
The  lords  of  eloquence,  the  lords  of  song. 

These  taught  him  a  fine  scorn  of  what  was  base, 
Nay,  even  of  what  was  less  good  than  the  best, 

In  art  and  aspiration.     More,  they  spurred 
Him  by  example  till  he  had  no  rest ; 

The  trophies  of  Miltiades  would  gird 

At  him  caught  shrinking  from  the  supreme  test  — 

Thus  he  won  hard  his  mastery  with  the  Word. 


OF   PULPIT   DISCOURSE  ^c^y 


XV 

An  honest  man,  foursquare  to  all  mankind ; 

A  simple  man,  with  no  ulterior  aim 

To  serve  that  if  exposed  had  brought  him  shame; 
Yet  circumspect,  to  far  forecast  inclined, 
Who  would  not  make  a  judgment  rash  and  blind, 

But,  having  made  it,  whether  praise  or  blame 

Followed,  would  hold  it  stanchly  still  the  same, 
However  suffering  in  his  secret  mind. 

A  stalwart  man  in  stature  and  in  size, 
He  stood  before  assemblies  armed  with  all 

The  force  to  wield  them  that  in  virtue  lies. 
A  preacher  of  the  gospel  such  as  Paul 

Preached  it,  he  wished  from  men  no  other  prize 
Than  that  they  form  that  image  of  John  Hall! 


458  MODERN  MASTERS 


XVI 

New  England  of  New  England  was  the  stock ; 

The  root  was  suckled  in  New  England  soil ; 

New  England  sweat  of  brow  from  honest  toil 
Watered  the  springing  shoot,  and  many  a  shock 
Of  hardship  shook  it  faster  to  the  rock ; 

On  books  to  pore  he  burned  no  midnight  oil, 

The  ages  had  not  heaped  for  him  their  spoil ; 
But  his  tough  strength  at  weariness  could  mock. 

Out  of  New  England  into  the  wide  world, 
Strong  by  the  east  for  broadening  by  the  west, 

Flung  where  most  mad  the  eddying  currents  swirled ! 
God  said,  "  Let  be;  will  he  abide  the  test?  " 

That  a  man  may,  through  faith,  wherever  hurled, 
Go  conquering,  God  once  more  made  manifest! 


0F_  PULPIT  DISCOURSE  459 


XVII 

A  SQUARE-TOED  Scotchman,  firm  upon  his  base 
As  if  his  feet  were  clamped  there,  to  abide 
Whatever  storm  to  shift  them  might  betide, 

John  Knox's  resolution  on  his  face ! 

He  could  at  need  have  smitten  with  the  mace. 
Could  power's  browbeating  menace  have  defied, 
Confronting  pride  with  overtopping  pride ; 

But  he  loved  more  to  magnify  the  grace 
Of  God  our  Father  in  the  gospel  shown  — 

To  him,  one  gospel,  whether  in  the  old. 

Or  in  the  sweet  new,  testament  made  known. 

From  these  two  mines  he  dug  out  ribs  of  gold, 
And  wrought  them  into  ingots  of  his  own. 

Huge  cubic  shapes  that  spoke  the  master's  mold! 


460  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


XVIII 

A  GOODLY  tree  fast  by  a  river  brink  — 

A  full-fed  river  with  its  waters  rolled 

An  equal  volume  out  of  mountains  old  — 
Fruit-bearing,  like  those  Pharphar  gives  to  drink 
His  current  which  the  summers  never  shrink, 

Libation  poured  from  Lebanon  snow-cold; 

Its  branches  all  thick-hung  with  fruit  of  gold, 
Refreshment,  should  the  vital  spirits  sink  — 

Such  he,  deep-rooted  on  the  pleasant  shore 
Whereby  the  pure  perennial  river  flows 

Of  God's  word  issuing  fresh  forevermore 
From  the  eternal  throne,  as  in  repose 

(So  shall  be  said  hereafter),  life-long  bore 
That  fruit  which  only  from  that  watering  grows ! 


XX 

JESUS 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

It  is  curious,  and,  to  one  inclined  to  be  psychological  in 
his  habit  of  thought,  rather  interesting,  to  consider  in  what  a 
degree,  subtly  and  insensibly,  the  particular  publishing  condi- 
tions under  which  a  writer  writes  will  inevitably  affect  and 
qualify  his  production.  The  following  paper  —  in  that  re- 
spect differing  from  all  the  other  papers  of  full  length  com- 
posing this  volume  —  was  not  written  for  the  "  Homiletic 
Review."  The  "  Biblical  World,"  one  of  the  group  of  Uni- 
versity of  Chicago  periodical  publications,  had  planned  to 
have  a  leading  number  devoted  to  the  presenting  of  Jesus 
Christ  in  various  aspects  of  his  person  and  character,  and,  in 
the  fulfilment  of  that  idea,  the  President,  who  is  remarkably 
present  and  active  in  every  department  of  the  complex  Uni- 
versity life,  asked  me  to  contribute  a  paper  on  Jesus  Christ 
as  preacher.  The  paper  now  to  follow  was  the  response 
rendered  to  that  editorial  request.  I  feel  in  revising  the  text 
(adding  to  it  here  and  there  —  perhaps  in  one  or  two  in- 
stances, things  that  would  not  have  seemed  quite  appropriate 
in  the  paper  as  originally  published)  that  the  production  was 
indefinably  influenced  by  the  atmosphere  in  which  it  was 
written  and  by  the  manner  of  publication  to  which  it  was 
destined.  I  need  not  say,  however,  that  neither  the  control- 
ling spirit  of  it,  nor  at  any  point  the  substance,  was  untrue 
then,  as  neither  is  untrue  now,  to  the  writer's  most  intimate 
personal  conviction. 


463 


JESUS 

Two  questions  may  at  once  fairly  be  raised  by  the  reader. 
First,  was  Jesus  a  preacher?  Secondly,  if  he  was,  can  he 
properly  be  called  a  preacher  of  to-day?  We  answer  these 
two  questions  in  their  order. 

First,  then,  was  Jesus  a  preacher?  Was  he  not  rather  a 
teacher?  Well,  preacher  in  the  sense  of  "  sermonizer," 
Jesus  certainly  was  not.  Ought  anybody  to  be?  But  to  an- 
swer that  question  would  lead  us  too  far  afield.  Enough  for 
our  present  purpose  to  note  that  Jesus  was  not  in  the  some- 
what technical,  professional  sense  of  that  not  very  felicitous 
term,  a  "  sermonizer."  Rather  than  that,  he  was  indeed 
a  teacher. 

But  if  we  carry  up  the  idea  of  the  teacher's  function  — 
regarded  as  that  of  one  who  addresses  the  mind  simply, 
imparting  information,  applying  stimulus,  widening  the 
view,  deepening  and  strengthening  the  foundations  of  knowl- 
edge possessed  —  if,  I  say,  we  carry  up  this  idea  to  the 
further  idea  of  finally  influencing  the  will  and  conforming 
conduct,  outward  and  inward,  of  making  and  molding  char- 
acter and  destiny,  why,  then,  we  do  not  indeed  destroy  the 
teacher,  but  the  teacher  becomes  in  our  conception  some- 
thing more  than  teacher,  and  we  may  well  enough  call  him 
preacher.  Preacher  in  this  sense  of  the  word,  Jesus  by 
eminence  was.  The  ultimate  effect  on  will  in  his  disciples, 
was  always  to  him  more,  immeasurably  more,  than  any 
effect  on  their  understanding.  This  latter  effect  was  in- 
variably for  the  sake  of  that  former,  for  the  sake,  namely, 
of  the  effect  on  their  will  as  guide  to  their  affections  and 
to  their  behavior.  That  such  is  in  truth  the  fact,  is  suffi- 
ciently indicated  in  the  prevailingly  preceptive,  imperative, 
tone  and  form  of  the  teaching  of  Jesus.    In  one  important 

464 


JESUS  465 

sense  therefore,  Jesus  was  even  more  a  preacher  than  a 
teacher. 

But,  secondly,  can  Jesus  properly  be  ranked  as  a  preacher 
of  to-day?  The  present  writer  well  knows,  he  has  again 
and  again  been  led  keenly  to  feel,  how  temporary  and 
transient  the  vogue  and  influence  of  any  preacher  has  always 
seemed  necessarily  to  be.  There  are  few  forms  of  intel- 
lectual product  more  ephemeral  than  the  sermon.  Scarcely 
does  the  editorial  article  of  the  daily  press  surpass  it  in 
fugacity.  But  the  sermons,  or  rather  to  conform  our  ex- 
pression more  exactly  to  the  fact,  the  preachings,  of  Jesus 
are  an  exception.  They  are  sempiternal  in  quality.  They 
are  recent,  and  as  it  were  contemporaneous,  in  every  age. 
In  a  very  important  sense,  therefore,  Jesus  is  a  preacher  of 
to-day  —  as  he  was  of  yesterday,  as  he  will  be  of  to-morrow. 
A  preacher  of  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever,  he  comes 
well  within  the  proper  scope  of  this  book. 

Let  us  keep  in  mind  the  true  restricted  purpose  of  the 
present  study.  It  is  not  to  consider  Jesus  Christ  generally  in 
his  person  and  his  character,  but  simply  to  point  out  the  chief 
traits  which  characterized  him  as  preacher  or  teacher. 

Some  of  those  characteristic  traits  belong  uniquely  to 
him.  Let  us  begin  with  one  such.  Jesus  taught  with 
authority.  Nothing  in  his  preaching  is  a  trait  more  marked, 
more  pervasive,  more  indelibly  waterlined  into  the  texture 
of  his  discourse,  than  this.  It  is,  perhaps,  the  one  note  in 
which  Jesus,  as  teacher,  is  different  from  all  other  teachers 
in  the  world,  before  him  or  after  him.  Other  teachers  have, 
indeed,  assumed  or  affected  the  tone  of  authority  in  their 
teaching.  With  some  such  teachers  the  assumption  has  the 
effect,  was  designed  to  have  the  effect,  of  only  a  pleasant 
complacency  on  their  part;  perhaps  even  of  a  certain  com- 
plaisance toward  their  disciples  or  readers.  Ralph  Waldo 
Emerson  is  an  instance.  In  form,  he  is  not  seldom  as 
authoritative  as  was  Jesus.  But  no  one  feels  that  he  is  so 
in  spirit  and  intent.  On  the  contrary,  he  associates  his 
readers  with  himself  and  makes  them  share  with  their  mas- 
DD 


466  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

ter  a  kind  of  illusory  sense  of  possessing  final  and  oracular 
wisdom.  Neither  writer  nor  reader  is  deceived  in  the 
premises.  The  air  of  seer  with  which  such  a  man  speaks 
is  frankly  put  on.     It  is  a  manner,  no  more. 

Not  so  with  the  authoritative  tone  in  Jesus.  That  is  no 
manner  merely.  It  is  of  himself.  It  is  the  natural  language 
of  the  speaker.  Instead  of  being  put  on,  it  is  such  that  it 
could  not  even  be  conceived  as  put  off.  Buffon's  word  is 
completely  realized.  In  the  case  of  Jesus,  the  style  is  he. 
But  we  do  not  have  to  infer  what,  if  it  were  left  to  be  in- 
ferred, is  so  abundantly  implied.  Jesus  himself,  in  express 
terms,  insists  on  his  own  authority  as  teacher.  He  said  to 
his  disciples,  "  Ye  call  me  master  [teacher]  and  lord  and 
ye  say  well,  for  so  I  am."  Again,  "  Why  call  ye  me  Lord, 
Lord,  and  do  not  the  things  which  I  say  ?  "  It  was  no  mere 
superficial  complaisance  that  this  teacher  would  accept  from 
his  disciples,  in  being  addressed  by  them  with  a  conven- 
tional title  of  deference  and  respect.  He  claimed  seriously 
all  that  his  title  of  lord  implied. 

Intimately  related  to  the  trait  just  named  in  Jesus  as 
preacher,  indeed  almost  identical  with  that,  yet  of  a  nature  to 
invite  separate  mention,  is  a  quality  for  which  our  language 
does  not,  in  any  single  word,  afford  an  adequate  name.  We 
shall  have  to  throw  out  tentatives,  make  approximations,  in 
order  to  express  it.  We  might  say  that  Jesus  spoke  like  a 
seer,  like  a  prophet,  like  an  oracle.  But  that  would  very 
imperfectly,  indeed  it  would  somewhat  misleadingly,  express 
the  fact.  It  would,  to  be  sure,  set  Jesus  apart  from  the 
order  of  those  whom  by  way  of  distinction  and  honor  we 
call  "  thinkers."  So  far,  it  would  be  just  and  good.  For 
Jesus  was  conspicuously,  remarkably,  not  a  thinker  among 
thinkers.  He  is  nowhere,  in  the  records  that  we  have  of 
him,  exhibited  to  us  as  going  through  any  of  those  intel- 
lectual processes  by  which  men  in  general  arrive  at  their 
results  in  conviction,  true  or  false.  He  was  not  a  seeker 
of  truth.  So  far  as  appears  he  did  not  reason,  institute 
inductions,   draw   inferences.     He   saw  without  effort.     He; 


JESUS  467 

did  not  explore  and  discover.  He  saw  and  announced.  He 
sometimes  argued;  but  this  to  convince,  or  rather  to  con- 
vict, his  opponents;  never  to  satisfy  himself.  In  the  re- 
spects thus  indicated,  Jesus  was  a  seer  instead  of  a  thinker. 
But  he  was  not  a  seer  in  the  sense  of  being  filled  from 
without  with  an  inspiration  to  which  he  served  simply  as 
organ  of  utterance.  He  was  never  as  one  carried  out  of 
himself.  He  spoke  indeed  from  God,  but  it  was  in  the  char- 
acter of  a  person  at  the  same  time  consciously  one  with 
God.  Let  us  say  that  Jesus  spoke  with  authority,  because 
he  spoke  as  one  that  knew. 

A  third  note,  then,  braided  inseparably  into  the  tone  with 
which  Jesus  spoke,  was  the  note  of  absolute,  unshaken, 
unshakable  certainty.  There  is  in  his  utterances  no  doubt, 
no  faltering,  no  wavering,  no  slightest  possibility  admitted, 
however  remotely,  of  the  speaker's  being  mistaken.  What 
he  teaches  has  in  it  the  solidity  —  I  was  going  to  say,  of 
the  planet  itself.  But  that  were  a  feeble  figure  of  speech. 
God  himself  could  not  be  imagined  speaking  in  human  words 
with  a  more  pungent  and  powerful  effect  produced  of  the 
speaker's  knozutng  what  he  affirmed.  The  degree  of  the 
peculiar  effect  thus  described  is  such  in  the  case  of  Jesus 
that  that  alone  would  justify  and  explain  the  awestricken 
exclamation  of  one  of  his  hearers,  "  Never  man  spake  like 
this  man."  Christ's  characteristic  formula  of  preface, 
"  Verily,  verily,"  was  but  a  kind  of  spontaneous,  inevitable 
notice  and  sign  given  to  hearers,  of  the  ultimate,  the  abso- 
lute, character  of  certainty  inhering  in  that  which  was  to 
follow  from  his  lips.  How  convincing,  nay,  how  overaweing, 
it  is,  when,  for  instance,  in  opposition  to  traditional  doctors 
of  universally  accepted  authority,  Jesus  says,  "  But  I  say 
unto  you  " ! 

Something  indeed  of  the  same  effect  as  that  here  dwelt 
upon,  is  felt,  and  felt  in  a  degree  not  equaled  elsewhere 
except  with  Christ,  when  we  read  the  words  of  the  Old 
Testament  prophets,  or  the  words  of  the  apostles  of  Christ. 
But   the   difference   is   as   noteworthy   as   the   resemblance, 


468         MASTERS  OF  PULPIT.  DISCOURSE 

between  these  men  and  Jesus.  The  apostles  speak  in  their 
Master's  name;  he  speaks  in  his  own  name.  Their  com- 
mission is  from  him;  his  commission  is  from  the  Father. 
They  are  ambassadors  of  the  King;  he  is  the  King's  own 
and  only  Son.  They  speak  that  which  they  have  been  told; 
he  speaks  that  which  he  has  seen.  "  I  speak  the  things 
which  I  have  seen  with  my  Father,"  Jesus  told  the  contra- 
dicting Jews. 

It  needs  to  be  said  that  the  traits  thus  attributed  to  Jesus 
as  teacher  or  preacher,  traits  naturally  seeming  to  involve 
underived  and  independent  quality  in  their  subject,  are 
strangely,  almost  paradoxically,  reconciled  in  him  with  an 
accompanying  trait  of  subordination  and  obedience.  As  a 
New  Testament  writer  expresses  it,  "  Tho  he  was  a  Son, 
yet  learned  he  obedience."  The  case  is  one  without  parallel 
in  respect  of  this  blending  and  reconcilement  of  two  seem- 
ing contraries,  supremacy  and  subjection.  The  mystery  of 
Christ's  person  as  very  God  and  very  man,  is  involved. 

Something  like  the  same  mystery  and  paradox  seems  also 
to  subsist  in  the  double  attitude  that  Jesus  held  toward  the 
Old  Testament  Scriptures.  On  the  one  side  he  treated  them 
with  the  utmost  reverence.  He  said,  or  implied,  that  their 
sentence  on  any  point  which  they  touched,  was  final  and 
irreversible.  "  For  verily  I  say  unto  you," —  such  is  his 
august  and  awe-inspiring  language  — "  Till  heaven  and  earth 
pass  one  jot  or  one  tittle  shall  in  no  wise  pass  from  the  law 
till  all  be  fulfilled."  Nothing  could  go  beyond  this  in  the 
way  of  declaring  the  absolute  truth  and  authority  of  Old 
Testament  Scripture.  And  illustration  of  the  same  tenor  is 
inwrought  everywhere  into  the  fabric  of  Christ's  habitual 
discourse. 

It  is,  however,  to  be  noted  that  this  accent  of  reverence 
on  Christ's  part  for  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures,  very 
singularly  involves  also  a  tacit  assumption  on  his  part  of 
authority  belonging  to  himself,  coequal  with  their  own,  nay, 
even  transcending  that.  The  language  used  by  Jesus,  as, 
for  instance,  in  the  foregoing  quotation  from  his  great  dis- 


JESUS  469 

course,  is  peculiar:  "Verily  I  say  unto  you."  Such  ex- 
pression is  that  of  one  affixing  a  sanction.  It  is  not  that 
of  one  subscribing  a  loyal  personal  adhesion  and  obedience. 
It  is  rather  that  of  one  calmly  assuming  to  endorse  and  to 
ratify.  The  New  Testament  student  is  not  surprised,  there- 
fore, to  fitjd  Jesus  saying,  with  unaffected  majesty,  of  his 
own  words  what  he  had  before  said  of  the  words  of  the  law : 
"  Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away,  but  my  words  shall 
not  pass  away." 

It  is  not  to  be  understood  as  condemnation  from  him  of 
what  the  Old  Testament  taught,  when,  in  the  exercise  of 
his  right,  Jesus  fills  out,  modifies,  or  even  sets  aside,  a  point 
of  Old  Testament  teaching.  If  to  say  this  be  paradox,  it  is 
no  less  the  truth.  The  Old  Testament  had  foretold  that  a 
Prophet  should  appear,  the  antitype  of  Moses;  and  Moses 
himself  is  represented  as  bespeaking  for  that  Prophet  be- 
forehand obedient  heed ;  "  Him  shall  ye  hear,"  is  the  bid- 
ding. It  is  as  if  the  Old  Testament  itself  provided  for  its 
own  amendment.  Its  letter  and  its  spirit  were  actually 
therefore  in  process  of  being  fulfilled,  when  its  predicted 
Prophet  took  upon  himself  the  prerogative  of  setting  it  at 
any  point  aside ;  that  is,  of  replacing  a  provisional  arrange- 
ment in  it  with  something  final  and  absolute;  in  Scripture 
phrase,  of  removing  the  things  which  were  shaken,  that  the 
things  which  could  not  be  shaken  might  remain.  The  an- 
nulment by  Jesus  of  the  too  lax  Mosaic  permission  of  di- 
vorce is  an  instance  in  point;  tho  this  ostensible  annulment 
was,  it  is  true,  rather  only  a  carrying  out  to  further  strict- 
ness, of  a  limitation  not  stringent  enough,  provisionally 
appointed  by  the  primitive  legislator.  It  was  completion, 
not  abrogation.  The  freedom  with  which  Jesus  handled  the 
Old  Testament  Scriptures  is  thus  as  marked  as  is  his  rever- 
ence for  them.  But  his  freedom  in  handling  them  is  no 
derogation  from  their  provisional  authority.  It  is  no  proof 
that  their  just  claim  was  less,  while  it  lasted ;  but  only  that 
his  just  claim  was  more,  who  could  at  points  authoritatively 
define  and  limit  the  term  of  its  lasting. 


470 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


There  is  one  thing  further  to  be  remarked  on  the  attitude 
held  by  Jesus  as  public  teacher  toward  the  Old  Testament 
Scriptures.  Whatever  may  have  been  his  knowledge  in  the 
case,  and  however  different  may  have  been  his  own  indi- 
vidual views  on  the  various  points  involved,  Jesus  never 
disturbed  the  current  popular  belief  concerning  the  origin, 
the  date,  the  authorship,  of  the  various  books  that  in  his 
day  composed,  as  these  same  books  compose  in  our  day, 
the  Old  Testament  canon.  If  contemporary  belief  was  mis- 
taken on  these  points,  or  on  any  of  them,  and  if  Jesus  knew 
that  it  was  mistaken,  he  yet  did  nothing  to  unsettle  it,  or 
to  correct  it.  He  left  it  absolutely  as  he  found  it,  un- 
changed, unchallenged. 

Such  is  the  fact,  the  incontestable  fact.  What  does  this 
fact  prove?  That  the  contemporary  popular  belief  was 
right?  Hardly.  I  thus  reply,  altho  my  own  individual 
opinion  is  —  an  opinion  long  held  by  me  on  grounds  of  liter- 
ary criticism  alone,  and  lately  confirmed  by  what  seem  to  be 
the  unquestionable  results  of  archeologic  research  —  that 
the  traditional  view  on  the  subject  of  Old  Testament  origins 
and  authorships,  which  view  I  understand  to  be  substan- 
tially the  same  as  that  current  among  the  Jews  of  Christ's 
time,  probably  comes  much  nearer  the  truth  in  the  case, 
than  any  alternative  conclusion  likely  ever  to  be  arrived 
at  and  agreed  upon  by  modern  higher  critics  of  the  ancient 
sacred  canon.  Still,  Jesus  did  not,  so  far  as  I  have  been 
able  to  see,  commit  himself,  directly  or  indirectly,  on  the 
points  involved;  and  we  are  left  free  to  infer  only  that  he 
thought  it  not  worth  while  to  disturb  the  current  belief,  even 
if  the  current  belief  were  wrong.  So  Jesus  bore  himself 
toward  this  matter  then.  Would  he  so  bear  himself  toward 
the  same  matter  now?  Or,  to  put  our  question  otherwise, 
Would  Jesus  still  have  observed  reticence  on  this  topic,  if 
the  topic  had  been  in  his  day  a  "burning"  one? 

One  capital  instance  given  us  of  his  method  in  handling 
what  was  a  burning  topic  in  his  day,  may  yield  us  some 
light  on  this  interesting  point.     I  refer  to  the  question  of 


JESUS  471 

the  lawfulness  of  paying  tribute  to  Caesar.  Jesus  would  not 
discuss  this  question;  but  he  decided  it.  His  generalized 
decision  in  the  case  is  capable  of  manifold  individual  appli- 
cations :  "  Render  unto  Caesar  the  things  that  are  Caesar's, 
and  to  God  the  things  that  are  God's."  Jesus  would  not 
be  diverted  from  his  purpose,  which  was  single  and  un- 
worldly. He  was  intent  on  proclaiming  and  establishing  the 
kingdom  of  God  in  the  earth.  It  would  be  forgetfulness  of 
his  aim,  if  he  allowed  himself  to  be  entangled  in  the  affairs 
and  disputes  of  this  world.  He  freed  himself,  in  the  short- 
est possible  time,  from  temporary  considerations  of  every 
sort  that  would  hinder  and  embarrass  him  in  the  one  work 
that  he  came  to  do. 

The  whole  tone  and  tenor  of  his  teaching  and  his  life 
tend  in  a  single  direction,  and  that  direction  is  to  make  it 
probable  that  Jesus  would  have  put  out  of  his  way  at  once, 
as  things  not  important  enough  to  engage  his  attention,  all 
questions,  though  never  so  burning  at  the  moment,  of  how, 
when,  by  whom,  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures  were  pro- 
duced. The  one  thing  vital  about  these  Scriptures  was  that 
they  were  from  God  and  were  to  be  reverenced  accordingly. 

Does  it  then  follow  that  men  must  never  inquire  and  ex- 
plore as  to  the  genesis  and  history  of  the  human  element 
in  the  authorship  of  the  sacred  Scriptures?  Who  would  af- 
firm this?  But  of  Christ's  purpose  in  the  world,  such 
speculation  constituted  no  part.  He  came  not  to  gratify 
intellectual  curiosity,  but  to  excite  and  to  satisfy  spiritual 
cravings ;  in  short,  to  save  men.  Let  those  addicted  to  scien- 
tific pursuits  make,  if  they  so  pleased,  scientific  quest  in  the 
region  of  Old  Testament  origins.  That,  however,  was  not 
his  own  mission;  nor  was  it  to  be  the  mission  of  those 
whom  he  would  send  forth  to  preach  his  gospel.  Give  to 
science  its  due,  and  give  to  religion  its  due;  render  to 
Csesar  the  things  that  are  Caesar's  and  to  God  the  things 
that  are  God's. 

If  this  hypothetical  conclusion  as  to  the  attitude  of  Jesus 
toward  questions  of  higher  biblical  criticism,  be  sound,  then 


472 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


the  way  is  now  absolutely  open  to  Science,  free  from  any 
interdict  to  be  drawn  from  the  example  or  authority  of 
Christ,  to  seek  and  to  find  what  results  she  justly  may, 
about  Old  Testament  and  New  Testament  origins.  Such  re- 
searches, the  present  writer  fully  believes.  Science  may  le- 
gitimately make,  quite  without  abridgement  of  privilege  pro- 
ceeding from  any  quarter.  But,  if  we  have  rightly  inferred 
from  the  spirit  and  example  of  Jesus,  the  religious  teacher, 
teaching  in  his  name,  will  not  do  this.  It  is  a  scientific,  not 
a  religious  aim.  The  results,  whatever  they  may  be  worth 
as  science,  will  have  no  religious  value.  I  mean,  of  course, 
so  far  as  they  are  speculative  and  uncertain.  Where  the  re- 
sults are  matters  of  really  verified  knowledge,  they  may  un- 
doubtedly sometimes  be  used  to  advantage  in  throwing  il- 
lustrative light  on  particular  passages,  perhaps  whole  tracts, 
of  Scripture,  and  so  subserve  a  vital  religious  purpose.  Be- 
yond this,  the  preacher  of  the  gospel  has  no  warrant  from 
the  example  of  his  Master  in  going.  It  is  a  pronounced 
negative  trait  in  Christ's  teaching  that  he  strongly  refrained 
from  intermeddling  in  the  burning  questions  of  his  time,  un- 
less they  were  religious,  and  vitally  religious,  questions. 
"  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world,"  he  seemed  always  to 
remember.  "  Who  made  me  a  ruler  and  divider  over  you  ?  " 
—  this  interrogative  refusal  on  his  part  of  intervention  in 
the  matter  of  a  disputed  inheritance,  expressed  also  his  at- 
titude toward  public  questions  of  the  day  on  which  good 
men  might  honestly  differ  in  opinion.  Even  a  question  like 
that  of  the  difference  between  Samaritan  and  Jew,  though 
it  involved  a  vital  point  of  religion,  he  pronounced  his  sen- 
tence upon,  frankly  indeed,  yet  with  a  certain  approach  to 
impatience,  with  an  air  of  dismissal  —  because  the  contro- 
versy about  it  was  of  only  a  subordinate  and  temporary  im- 
portance. The  example  and  influence  of  Jesus  as  preacher 
are  wholly  in  favor  of  exclusive  devotion  on  the  part  of  his 
ministers  to  what  is  religious,  as  distinguished  from  what 
is  intellectual,  in  interest  —  this,  even  where  that  which  is 
intellectual  in  interest  may  border  closely  on  religion.     It 


JESUS  473 

is  not  meant  thus  to  be  implied  that  some  men  may  not,  in 
a  vitally  and  a  soundly  religious  spirit,  and  with  a  sin- 
cerely religious  motive  in  doing  so,  devote  themselves  to 
scientific  exploration  of  the  questions  involved  in  the  so- 
called  higher  criticism  of  Scripture.  Assuredly,  men  having 
a  conscientious  sense  of  such  vocation  may  freely  do  this, 
animated  with  the  hope  of  discovering  what  shall  serve  the 
cause  of  religion  in  the  world.  But  the  work  thus  described 
is  not  included  either  among  the  specific  activities  com- 
manded by  Jesus  to  his  ministers,  or  among  those  recom- 
mended to  them  by  their  Master's  example.  "  Preach  the 
word  " —  the  word,  not  higher  criticism  of  the  word,  is  still, 
as  it  always  was,  and  always  will  be,  the  prime  injunction  to 
ministers  of  the  gospel. 

In  the  matter  and  substance  of  his  preaching,  Jesus  did  not 
claim  to  be,  and  he  was  not,  new  and  original  in  any  such 
sense,  or  in  any  such  degree,  as  will  at  all  account  for  his 
unique  influence.  His  doctrine  of  the  Divine  Fatherhood 
was  no  novelty.  The  Old  Testament  contained  it,  in  such 
expressions  as  that  of  the  Psalm,  "  Like  as  a  father  pitieth 
his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them  that  fear  him."  Or, 
if  this  be  deemed  not  universal  enough  to  match  the  doc- 
trine of  Jesus,  then  take  this,  "  His  tender  mercies  are  over 
all  his  works  " ;  or  this,  "  O  that  men  would  praise  the  Lord 
for  his  goodness,  for  his  wonderful  works  to  the  children 
of  men !  "  No  particularism  there  at  least,  more  than  in 
the  teaching  of  Jesus,  "  He  [your  Father]  maketh  his  sun 
to  rise  on  the  evil  and  the  good,"  language  addressed,  how- 
ever, be  it  observed,  to  his  disciples,  and  couched  in  the 
second  person,  "  Your  Father,"  The  care  of  Jesus  for  the 
poor,  the  lowly,  the  despised,  the  outcast,  contrasted  as  it  is 
with  the  spirit  predominant  in  all  ancient  pagan  civilizations 
and  cultures,  was  fully  anticipated  in  the  Old  Testament 
Scriptures.  There  is  no  note  whatever  more  recurrent  and 
more  insistent  in  the  Bible  of  the  Jews,  than  the  injunction 
of  regard  for  the  poor  of  the  earth.  Great  pains  have  been 
expended  by  hostile  critics  of  Jesus  in  the  attempt  to  trace 


474  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

everything  that  he  taught  to  some  source  earHer  than  him- 
self. Such  critics  do  not  seem  to  consider  that  the  more 
they  show  Jesus  not  to  have  been  original,  or  at  least  not 
to  have  been  new,  in  his  teaching,  the  more  they  make 
wonderful  the  power  and  the  spread  of  his  influence.  If 
there  was  nothing  original  and  new  in  his  doctrine,  then 
his  person,  his  character,  himself,  must  alone  be  relied  upon 
to  furnish  the  explanation  of  the  history  that  surrounded 
him  living  and  that  has  followed  him  dead. 

The  one  feature  in  Christ's  preaching  that  might  seem 
to  ofifer  an  aspect  of  originality,  consists  in  this,  that  the  ul- 
timate subject  and  object  of  his  preaching  was  himself.  No 
other  teacher  is  in  this  regard  comparable  to  Jesus.  "  /  say 
unto  you;"  "These  sayings  of  mine;"  "If  /  then,  your 
Lord  and  Master; "  "  One  is  your  Master,  even  Christ; " 
"Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden  and 
/  will  give  you  rest ; "  "  Ye  will  not  come  to  me  that  ye 
might  have  life ; "  "  /  am  the  way,  and  the  truth,  and  the 
life ; "  "  No  man  cometh  unto  the  Father,  but  by  me."  Ex- 
traordinary, unparalleled  claims;  still,  it  was  only  in  the 
article  of  his  thus  identifying  himself  with  the  promised 
Messiah,  that  Jesus  propounded  in  them  anything  to  be 
called  new.  The  Christ  or  Messiah  of  the  Old  Testament 
had  for  ages  been  preached  or  predicted  in  virtually  equiva- 
lent terms.  "Ye  search  [or.  Search  ye  (imperative)]  the 
Scriptures,"  said  Jesus  to  the  caviling  Jews,  "  for  in  them  ye 
think  ye  have  eternal  life;  and  they  are  they  which  testify 
of  me."  To  two  of  his  disciples,  so  it  is  told  us  by  Luke, 
Jesus,  after  his  resurrection,  beginning  from  Moses  and 
from  all  the  prophets,  interpreted  in  all  the  Scriptures  the 
things  concerning  himself.  In  its  essence,  therefore,  the 
doctrine  of  Jesus  was  not  new  doctrine,  when  he  made  him- 
self the  subject  and  the  object  of  his  own  preaching. 

We  have  hitherto  considered  only  traits  in  Jesus  the 
preacher  belonging  necessarily  to  him,  because  he  was  such 
as  he  was  in  his  person  and  character,  or  else  because  he 
was  exclusively  religious  in  his  aim.     Let  us  now  turn  our 


JESUS  475 

attention  to  traits  in  him  that  might  be  regarded  as  more 
incidental,  more  separable  from  the  person  and  character 
of  the  preacher,  more  a  matter  of  choice  on  his  part,  choice 
that  might  conceivably  have  been  different  from  what  it 
was.    We  proceed  to  treat  of  the  homiletic  method  of  Jesus. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  very  noticeable  that  Jesus  took 
advantage  of  the  incalculable  oratoric  reinforcement  to  be 
drawn  from  fit  opportunity.  He  hinged  and  jointed  his 
instructions  into  particular  occasions  that  either  suggested 
them,  or  at  least  made  them  at  a  given  moment  especially 
apposite.  The  gospel  historians  are  faithful  in  enabling  us 
to  make  this  useful  note  as  to  Christ's  method  in  preaching. 

Again,  and  in  the  same  wise  spirit  of  thrifty  self-adjust- 
ment to  occasion,  Jesus,  where  occasion  did  not  offer  itself 
ready-made  to  his  hand,  would  say  something  introductory 
to  serve  the  purpose  of  an  occasion.  For  instance,  he  would 
rouse  attention  and  expectation  by  providing  beforehand, 
over  against  what  he  had  to  say,  some  antithesis  to  it,  real 
or  apparent.  "  Ye  have  heard  that  it  was  said,  '  An  eye  for 
an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth ' ;  but  I  say  unto  you.  Resist 
not  him  that  is  evil,"  is  an  illustration  of  this  method  on 
the  part  of  Jesus.  For  we  have  here,  not,  of  course,  abro- 
gation of  civil  law  with  replacement  of  it  by  lawlessness, 
by  anarchy  —  which,  in  the  sphere  of  human  government, 
the  absolute  non-resistance  here  in  terms  enjoined,  would 
be;  but  simply  a  rhetorical  device  for  commanding  atten- 
tion and  strengthening  impression.  Indeed  the  whole  series 
of  antitheses  from  which  our  example  foregoing  was  drawn, 
may  be  said  itself  to  constitute  an  illustration  at  large  of  the 
point  in  teaching  method  here  brought  to  attention.  Jesus 
wished  to  enforce  the  high  severity  of  the  personal  right- 
eousness required  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  He  does  it 
most  effectively  by  contrast.  He  sets  his  own  standard  of 
righteousness  over  against  the  imperfect  standard  main- 
tained by  the  popular  religious  teachers  of  his  day.  ""Ex- 
cept  your  righteousness  shall  exceed  the  righteousness  of 
the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  ye  shall  in  no  wise  enter  into 


476  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

the  kingdom  of  heaven."  This  is  the  general  statement,  and 
then  follows  the  series  of  instances  in  which  Jesus  points 
out  the  imperfections,  or  the  faults,  of  the  morality  taught, 
as  from  the  Mosaic  institutes,  by  the  best-reputed  contem- 
porary doctors  of  the  law.  It  is  the  homiletic  expedient 
exemplified  of  teaching  by  antithesis. 

Paradox  was  with  Jesus  another  favorite  expedient  of 
teaching.  Perhaps  no  other  teacher  ever  made  proportion- 
ately more  use  of  this  expedient  than  did  he.  You  cannot 
understand  Jesus  without  often  making  allowance  for  para- 
dox in  his  form  of  expression. 

Jesus  was  sometimes  even  more  frankly  rhetorical  than 
has  yet  been  shown  or  suggested.  Take,  for  instance,  that 
saying  of  his,  "  Whosoever  shall  break  one  of  the  least  com- 
mandments, and  shall  teach  men  so,  shall  be  called  least 
in  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  Here,  manifestly  the  rhetorical 
quest  of  balance  and  antithesis,  of  symmetry  and  epigram, 
in  form  of  statement,  leads  Jesus  to  say  what  he  did  not  de- 
sire to  have  taken  in  an  absolutely  literal  sense.  Hyperbole 
therefore,  is  yet  another  rhetorical  expedient  freely  used  by 
Jesus  in  his  discourse.  Consider  the  following:  "If  any 
man  .  .  .  hateth  not  his  own  father,  and  mother,  and 
wife,  and  children,  and  brethren,  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his  own 
life  also,  he  cannot  be  my  disciple."  The  vast,  the  immeasur- 
able, claim  on  his  own  behalf  which  Jesus  habitually  makes 
does  not  itself  admit  of  overstatement;  but  the  strictly  just 
statement  of  it  here  made,  is  made  by  means  of  overstatement 
the  most  extraordinary.  It  is  a  case  of  hyperbole  rendered 
more  hyperbolic  through  accumulation  and  climax. 

Of  like  nature,  tho  constituting  a  use  of  language  not  to  be 
called  hyperbole,  paradox,  or  antithesis,  is  the  rhetorical  fig- 
ure sometimes  employed  by  Jesus  in  which,  for  the  sake  of 
saying  a  particular  thing,  he  says  a  general  thing,  and  says  it 
so  boldly  and  widely  that  it  cannot  be  taken  as  literally  and 
absolutely  true.  An  example  is  his  telling  the  Samaritan 
woman  that  the  time  was  coming  when  men  should  not 
worship  the  Father  at  Jerusalem.     Of  course,  he  could  not 


JESUS  477 

have  meant  that  there  would  ever  come  a  time  when  there 
might  not  be  individual  instances  of  true  worship  paid  in 
the  holy  city  to  the  Father  of  spirits.  We  must  beware,  in 
the  case  of  Jesus,  as  theologians  long  ago  ought  to  have 
done  in  the  case  of  the  apostle  Paul,  not  to  make  dogma 
out  of  mere  rhetoric.  I  heard  once  a  divinity-school  pro- 
fessor, commenting  publicly  on  that  precept  of  Paul,  "  Let 
each  esteem  other  better  than  themselves,"  say :  "  Jesus 
would  not  have  issued  such  an  injunction  as  that;  it  was  ex- 
cessive, extravagant."  And  that  professor  had  New  Testa- 
ment interpretation  for  his  department  of  instruction !  In- 
credible that  he  could  so  have  missed  the  spirit  and  method 
both  of  Jesus  and  of  Paul.  It  was  a  curipus  illustration  — 
seriously  considered,  a  sad  illustration  —  of  the  mischievous 
influence  exerted  by  the  current  tendency  to  disparage  Paul 
in  contrast  with  that  Divine  Master  who  called  Paul  to  rep- 
resent him  to  men.  Of  course  there  was  no  danger  that 
any  one  would  be  led  by  Paul's  homiletic  "  extravagance " 
to  undervalue  himself  too  much.  The  danger,  as  Paul  knew, 
was,  and  it  is,  all  the  other  way. 

The  parable  was  one  more  feature  in  the  preaching 
method  of  Jesus;  perhaps  the  most  commanding  one  of  all. 
Certainly  no  one  else  ever  approached  Jesus  in  mastery  of 
this  teaching  instrument.  Evidently  this  teaching  instru- 
ment is  one  that  may  equally  well  be  employed  to  throw 
light  or  to  throw  darkness  on  the  subject  of  discourse. 
That  Jesus  employed  it  now  for  the  one  and  now  for  the 
other  of  these  two  opposite  purposes,  seems  implied  in  the 
narrative  of  the  evangelists.  "  Opposite,"  I  call  these  pur- 
poses. But  even  when  Jesus  employed  the  parable  for  dark- 
ening truth,  we  may  be  sure  that  the  darkness  cast  was 
cast  for  the  gracious  end  of  awakening  desire  for  light. 
Hearers  that  really  wished  light  would  be  given  light.  It 
is  not  for  a  moment  to  be  supposed  that  Jesus  ever  dark- 
ened men's  minds  with  parable,  when  a  different  method 
of  instruction  adopted  by  him  would  have  had  on  those 
same  men's  minds  an  effect  more  salutary  both  for  them- 


478  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

selves  and  for  the  general  interests  of  the  kingdom  of  God 
in  the  world. 

A  further  feature  belonging  to  the  homiletic  method  of 
Jesus  was  the  just  balance  that  he  held  between  the  two 
contrasted  moods  and  tendencies  of  thought  often  desig- 
nated, respectively,  the  optimistic  and  the  pessimistic.  Je- 
sus was  neither  a  pessimist  nor  an  optimist,  whether  in  his 
temperament  or  in  his  preaching.  He  mingled  light  and 
shadow,  hope  and  fear.  It  cannot  truly  be  said  that  either 
one  of  these  two  mutual  opposites  predominated  in  Jesus, 
whether  we  regard  him  in  his  person  or  in  his  preaching. 
It  is  true,  indeed,  that  toward  the  close  of  his  earthly  career, 
the  animating  hope,  if  ever  such  hope  lived  in  his  breast, 
of  great  and  saving  results  for  his  nation  and  for  mankind, 
to  flow  from  his  preaching,  seems  to  have  suffered  extinc- 
tion; and  the  darkness,  both  of  the  doom  impending  over 
the  guilty  Jewish  state,  and  of  the  end  awaiting  himself 
in  Jerusalem,  overshadowed  more  and  more  deeply  his  spirit. 
The  predictions,  couched  now  in  parable  and  now  in  straight- 
forward statement,  that  issued  from  his  lips,  were  gloomy 
in  the  extreme.  But  even  these  were  relieved  with  gleams 
of  promise  and  of  hope  —  for  a  remnant;  and  the  discourse 
of  Jesus  as  a  whole,  if  not  to  be  pronounced  enlivening  rather 
than  depi-essing,  was  at  least  enlivening  as  well  as  depress- 
ing. To  describe  his  preaching  as  mainly  of  a  bright  and 
cheering  tenor,  would  be  to  make  a  serious  critical  mistake 
of  disproportion  in  judgment.  An  incredibly  wide  critical 
mistake  was  made  by  that  widely-accepted  teacher  of 
teachers,  the  late  Dr.  A.  B.  Bruce,  when  he  applied  the  epi- 
thet "  cheery  "  to  characterize  the  prevalent  spirit  of  Jesus,  in 
his  teaching  and  his  life.  Jesus  saw  things  as  they  were, 
and  not  under  any  glamour  of  rose  color  thrown  upon  them 
from  a  light  and  happy  temperament  in  himself.  Solem- 
nity, accordingly,  is  the  prevailing  character  impressed  upon 
the  teaching  of  Jesus.  If  it  is  once  said  that  Jesus  "  rejoiced 
in  spirit,"  that  note  of  mood  in  him  produces  on  the  reader 
an  effect  of  the  exceptional  rather  than  the  ordinary;  and 


JESUS  479 

the  joy  attributed  seems,  even  in  the  case  of  exception,  to 
have  been  a  joy  impressively  solemn  in  character.  The 
church  has  made  no  mistake,  all  these  Christian  centuries, 
in  conceiving  her  Lord  as  a  Man  of  Sorrows  and  Acquainted 
with  Grief. 

Accordant  with  the  equipoise  in  Jesus  between  the  san- 
guine and  the  despondent,  in  his  way  of  regarding  the  world, 
is  the  even-handed  justice  with  which  he  metes  out  his 
awards  of  praise  and  of  blame.  There  is,  however  —  and 
it  could  not  be  otherwise,  if  justice  prevailed  —  a  very  no- 
ticeable predominance  of  blame  over  praise  in  the  sentences 
from  his  lips.  The  note  of  rebuke,  nay,  even  of  heavy- 
shotted  denunciation,  is  very  strong  (and  this  note  not  in- 
frequently recurs),  in  the  discourses  of  Jesus.  Nothing 
could  exceed  the  unrelieved,  the  red-hot,  the  white-hot,  in- 
dignation and  damnation  launched  by  Jesus  against  certain 
classes  and  certain  individuals  among  his  hearers.  The 
fierceness  indeed  is  such  that  it  is  plainly  beyond  the  mark 
of  what  could  properly  be  drawn  into  precedent  for  any 
other  preacher.  Jesus  is  hardly  in  anything  else  more  en- 
tirely put  outside  the  possibility  of  classification  with  his 
human  brethren,  than  in  the  article  now  spoken  of. 

Of  the  physical  manner,  that  which  may  be  called  elocu- 
tion, in  Jesus  as  preacher,  we  have  absolutely  no  notice  in 
the  histories  extant  of  him.  Once  or  twice  indeed  it  is  noted 
•  that  he  looked  round  about  him  with  anger  at  the  hardness 
of  heart  displayed  by  certain  hearers  of  his;  and  once  that 
looking  upon  a  young  man  he  loved  him.  Such  hints,  rare 
as  they  are,  stimulate  us  to  imagine  that  the  features  of 
Jesus  were  mobile  and  expressive  during  his  speech.  One 
thing,  however,  we  instinctively  feel  to  be  certain,  that 
even  in  his  most  terrible  invectives  there  was  no  violence 
of  tone,  of  gesture,  or  of  manner.  If  fidelity  would  not 
permit  him  to  appear  relenting,  equally,  the  quality  of  love 
in  him  would  not  permit  him  to  be  vindictive. 

In  fine,  and  somewhat  abruptly,  by  way  of  even  doing  to 
the  present  topic  a  seeming  disparagement  required  by  truth, 


48o  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

it  must  be  said  that  Jesus  as  preacher  was,  in  his  own  view, 
nothing  whatever  in  importance  compared  with  Jesus  the 
suffering  Savior.  "  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up,  will  draw  all  men 
unto  me,"  he  said,  near  the  end,  with  a  depth  of  meaning 
and  pathos  beyond  reach  of  human  plummet  to  sound;  and, 
at  the  very  last,  "  This  is  my  blood  of  the  covenant,  which 
is  shed  for  many."  What  his  preaching,  even  his  preaching, 
had  failed  to  effect,  it  remained  for  his  obedience  unto 
death,  the  death  of  the  cross,  to  accomplish.  His  preach- 
ing itself  thus  acknowledged  that  his  preaching  alone  was 
vain.  Jesus  as  preacher  preached  Jesus  as  Redeemer  by 
blood. 

He  set  herein  an  example  which  every  faithful  minister  of 
his  gospel,  to  the  end  of  the  age,  must  follow. 


XXI 
PAUL 


CE 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

I  HAVE  first  and  last  expressed  myself  in  public  largely,  I 
cannot  say  fully,  about  the  apostle  Paul,  both  with  tongue 
and  with  pen,  both  in  prose  and  in  verse.  I  have  never  pub- 
licly spoken  or  written  on  any  subject  with  more  profound- 
ness, and  more  passion,  of  solemn  conviction  than  on  this. 

The  apostle  Paul  has  thus  engaged  me,  mind  and  heart, 
for  two  reasons.  One  reason  is,  the  extraordinary  fascina- 
tion I  have  found  in  the  transformed  Christian  personality  of 
the  man  himself.  Another  reason,  more  commanding  still, 
is  my  persuasion  that  at  just  this  living  moment  of  Christian 
history,  belief  in  Paul,  is,  to  use  a  famous  phrase,  the  article 
of  the  standing  or  the  falling  church.  Of  course,  by  "  belief 
in  Paul,"  I  mean  much  more  than  belief  in  him  as  a  great 
man,  a  great  preacher,  a  great  saint,  a  great  spiritual  hero. 
I  mean  belief  in  him  as  what  by  eminence  and  with  emphasis 
he  claimed  to  be,  namely,  a  chosen  representative  on  earth, 
of  the  ascended  and  glorified  Christ  in  heaven,  enabled  and 
commanded  to  speak  and  to  preach  with  authority  in  his 
name."  "  Our  Continuing  Need  of  Paul "  is  the  title  of  a 
paper  of  mine  published  in  the  "  Homiletic  Review,"  which 
was  inspired  by  this  sentiment  about  him.  That  paper  is,  how- 
ever, only  one  of  several  papers,  having  diflferent  titles, 
through  which  I  have  sought  to  satisfy  my  sense  of  obligation 
in  this  matter.  These  papers,  all  of  them,  the  reader  interested 
may  find  by  looking  through  the  files  of  the  "  Homiletic 
Review,"  or,  more  readily,  by  consulting  the  indexes  of  that 
periodical. 

It  is  a  pleasure  to  me  to  make  here  an  acknowledgment, 
483 


484  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

and  it  may  be  of  profit  to  some  among  my  readers.  A  little 
book  by  Tayler  Lewis,  entitled  "  The  Divine-Human  in 
Scripture,"  has  a  chapter  on  the  apostle  Paul,  which,  many 
years  ago  —  many  more  indeed  than  I  seem  to  myself  to 
have  lived  since  then  —  contributed  in  an  important  degree 
to  form  my  conception  of  this  great  historic  personage.  I 
came  at  length  so  to  conceive  Paul  that  I  was  not  able  to 
appease  my  conscience,  until  I  had  written  and  published 
two  volumes  of  narrative  verse  about  him,  which  I  ventured 
to  name  respectively,  "  The  Epic  of  Saul  "  and  "  The  Epic  of 
Paul."  Even  so  much  expression  about  him  in  verse  did  not 
quite  content  my  mind,  and  I  have  a  somewhat  sustained 
lyrical  poem  about  him,  which  must  be  sought,  by  any 
who  would  see  it,  in  a  collective  volume  of  "  Poems  "  by  the 
present  writer.  Unity,  without  identity  and  repetition, 
would,  I  hope,  be  felt  to  characterize  my  various  expressions 
on  this  great  subject.  In  the  criticism  following,  I  have 
tried,  as  was  meet,  to  make  everything  contributory  to  the 
representation  of  Paul  as  a  preacher. 


PAUL 

Among  the  preachers  of  the  Christian  past,  later  than 
Jesus,  one  figure  stands  out  to  the  historical  eye,  salient, 
unique,  incomparable.  That  figure  is  the  apostle  Paul.  Con- 
cerning no  other  preacher  of  any  age  can  it  be  said,  as  it  can 
be  said  concerning  him,  not  only  that  he  left  behind  him  an 
impression  of  himself  and  of  his  work  deep  enough  and 
clear  enough  to  make  his  preaching  a  subject  of  study  per- 
ennially promising  to  be  fruitful,  but  that  he  also  drew  after 
him  a  sequel  of  inexhaustible  living  influence  on  the  world, 
such  as,  from  the  very  first,  destined  him  to  become  in  ef- 
fect a  kind  of  contemporary  to  each  succeeding  generation  of 
his  fellow  men  to  the  end  of  time  —  a  personal  force  con- 
tinually born  again  with  every  age  to  an  ever-new  lease  of 
life  and  power.  Paul  is  therefore  a  preacher  of  to-day  as 
well  as  of  yesterday.  The  purpose  of  the  paper  now  before 
the  reader  is  to  make  a  study,  somewhat  in  the  spirit  of  the 
living  present,  of  this  illustrious  preacher  of  apostolic  times. 

In  entering  on  this  task,  we  are  undoubtedly  first  struck, 
and  most  strongly  struck,  with  the  puissant  and  pungent  per- 
sonality of  the  man  with  whom  we  have  to  deal.  If  we  recall 
Phillips  Brooks's  formula  to  express  the  value  of  the  indi- 
vidual preacher,  "  Truth  plus  personality,"  we  feel  at  once 
that  in  the  case  of  Paul,  however  great  might  be  the  truth 
entrusted  to  the  man  to  deliver,  the  man  himself  that  de- 
livered the  truth  would  inevitably  be  a  force,  a  moment, 
demanding  to  be  taken  very  seriously  into  account.  Beyond 
question,  such  a  man  as  he  was  would  have  made  himself 
profoundly  felt,  whatever  might  have  been  the  cause  that 
he  espoused.  Indeed  Paul  did  make  himself  thus  felt,  first 
on  one  side,  and  then  on  the  other,  of  the  same  cause.  The 
demonstration  therefore  is  perfect  that  his  final  enormous 

485 


486  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

influence,  both  living  and  posthumous,  is  due  to  something 
besides  the  mere  fact  that  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  choose 
the  winning  side  in  a  cause  of  supreme  historic  importance. 
If  he  had  chosen  in  that  cause  the  side  which  was  destined 
eventually  to  lose,  Paul  would  yet  probably  have  lived  in 
history,  alongside  of  Julian  the  Apostate  —  full  peer  of  that 
redoubtable  opposer  of  Christianity,  tho  gifted  with  incalcu- 
lably less  outward  advantage  than  the  latter  enjoyed  for 
making  his  efforts  in  opposition  effective. 

The  second  thing  to  strike  us,  in  our  present  study,  is  the 
absoluteness  with  which  this  great  personality  submitted 
itself,  prostrated  itself,  only  not  annihilated  itself,  before  the 
character,  the  will,  the  authority,  of  another.  Paul  at  the 
feet  of  Jesus  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  striking  spectacles 
to  be  seen  in  history.  Rightly  regarded,  that  spectacle  is 
argument  to  the  degree  of  demonstration  for  the  truth  of  su- 
pernatural Christianity.  There  is  absolutely  no  way  of  ac- 
counting for  the  conversion  of  Saul  the  Pharisee  into  Paul 
the  Christian  apostle,  no  way  of  accounting  for  the  con- 
tinuous subsequent  paradox  of  a  man  naturally  so  high  and 
haughty  in  temper  as  was  he,  maintaining  that  historic  at- 
titude of  Paul's,  the  attitude  of  adoration  and  of  adoring 
obedience  before  Jesus  —  no  way,  but  to  suppose  the  New 
Testament  story  of  Jesus'  resurrection  and  ascension  liter- 
ally true.  That  supposition  accounts  for  it  completely;  and, 
I  repeat  it,  nothing  else  that  man  can  imagine  will.  A  lordly 
personality  captive  —  captive  to  an  unseen  Lord;  such  is  the 
aspect  in  which  we  are  compelled  to  contemplate  Paul,  when 
we  study  him  as  preacher  of  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ. 

For,  in  the  preacher  that  Paul  became,  both  these  two  con- 
trasted, yet  perfectly  reconciled,  characters,  the  native  lord- 
liness and  the  acquired  lowliness,  are  conspicuously  evi- 
dent; as  they  were  also  both  conspicuously  influential  in 
making  him  become  such  a  preacher.  But  especially  will 
the  prolonged  final  attitude,  on  his  part,  of  subjection  to 
Jesus,  of  rapt  and  transcendent  hero-worshiping  devotion 
to  the  Ideal  Man  confessed  by  him  the  Son  of  God  with 


PAUL  487 

power,  be  found  an  important  element  in  the  intellectual  and 
spiritual  phenomenon  presented  to  us  in  the  preacher  Paul. 
In  speaking  thus,  I  make  indeed  an  extravagant  understate- 
ment. That  attitude  of  prostration  before  Jesus  Christ  is  the 
one  central  controlling  fact  and  force  of  the  apostle  Paul's 
evangelism.  The  conception  exemplified  in  it  of  the  normal 
relation  in  which  Christ  stands  to  all  human  souls  as  their 
rightful  absolute  Sovereign  and  Lord,  gave  to  Paul  the  great 
master  principle,  the  universal  regulative  law,  of  his  preach- 
ing. This  will  duly  appear  in  its  proper  place  as  we  pro- 
ceed with  the  analysis  of  our  subject. 

But  we  have  not  yet  fully  indicated  the  amazing  nature 
of  the  spectacle  exhibited  to  history  in  the  apostle  Paul's 
subject  and  obedient  relation  to  Jesus  Christ.  Not  only 
was  this  self-prostrating  hero-worshiper  himself,  as  we  have 
seen,  a  man  of  supremely  ascendant  and  dominating  spirit  — 
a  man,  in  fact,  such,  in  naturally  self-asserting  will,  as  to 
leave  it  little  likely  that  he  would  be  mastered  by  any  one; 
he  was  also  full  of  the  pride  of  conscious  genius  and  con- 
scious high  attainment.  That  is  the  next  thing  to  strike  us 
in  the  character  of  Paul.  He  was  a  man  of  genius,  of  genius 
accomplished  by  sedulous  self-culture;  and  he  was  haughtily 
conscious  of  himself  as  such.  True  it  is,  many  among  Paul's 
intellectual  acquisitions  were  of  a  sort  to  seem  to  us  West- 
erns and  moderns  of  comparatively  little  value.  True  also, 
his  exercised  skill  in  dialectics  was  affected  with  what  we 
may,  without  disrespect,  call  a  rabbinical  quality  that  makes 
both  its  processes  and  its  subsidiary  results  often  almost  null 
to  an  intelligence  cultivated  under  our  own  very  different 
conditions.  But  these  considerations,  justly  weighed,  only 
make  more  remarkable  the  solid  wisdom  that  displays  itself 
throughout  Paul's  utterances,  no  matter  what  may  be  their 
obsolete  forms  of  expression,  as  well  as  the  consummate 
art  with  which,  in  his  speech,  reason  wielded  logical  weapons 
now,  among  us  at  least,  no  longer  in  use.  Besides  the  Heb-| 
raic  culture  of  which  Paul  was  a  master  unsurpassed,  he  had 
enjoyed,  we  have  hints  for  believing,  a  discipline  also  in 


488  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

Greek  literature  and  philosophy.  At  any  rate,  the  impres- 
sion is  immediate  and  overwhelming,  that  we  encounter  in 
Paul  a  mind  of  the  first  order  in  original  gift,  and  a  mind 
adequately  furnished  and  trained  to  do  its  work  without 
waste  of  power  and  to  the  most  fruitful  effect. 

Keeping  in  our  thought  these  latter  additional  traits  found 
in  Paul,  namely,  his  genius  and  his  culture,  with  his  pride 
in  them  both,  let  us  call  up  again  that  paradox  already 
spoken  of  in  his  character  and  career  —  the  attitude  which 
on  a  memorable  occasion  he  suddenly  assumed,  and  which 
afterward  he  steadily  maintained,  of  absolute  subjection, 
body,  soul,  and  spirit,  to  the  will  of  another.  We  have  not 
yet  felt  the  full  proper  effect  of  that  paradox.  When  to  the 
Roman  Christians  he  introduced  himself  by  letter  in  the 
words,  "  Paul,  a  bond-servant  [slave]  of  Jesus  Christ,*'  it 
was  only  one  outright  express  confession  on  Paul's  part  of 
the  relation  to  Jesus  in  which  he  habitually,  even  if  some- 
times tacitly,  stood  before  his  hearers  in  preaching. 

Shall  we  imagine  a  parallel,  to  make  a  little  more  appre- 
ciable the  full  meaning  of  this?  But  it  will  not  be  easy  to 
imagine  a  parallel  even  approximately  adequate.  It  is  some- 
what as  if,  a  few  years  ago,  the  apostle  and  high  priest  of  cul- 
ture and  refinement  in  English  letters  had  staggered  his  ad- 
mirers and  disciples  by  writing  himself  down  before  the 
world,  "  Matthew  Arnold,  slave  of  Joe  Smith  "  [the  founder  of 
Mormonism].  Joe  Smith  is  not  more  a  scorning  to  the  Brah- 
man caste  in  contemporary  culture,  than  was  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth to  Paul's  fellow  Pharisees  in  his  time.  But  Matthew  Ar- 
nold was  neither  in  gifts  nor  in  reputation  a  match  for  what 
Paul  was  in  relation  to  his  Jewish  contemporaries.  Imagine 
then  this,  as  written,  or  dictated,  by  Goethe  himself:  "  Goethe, 
slave  of  Joe  Smith,"  and  you  have  a  suggestion  of  the  para- 
dox it  was  for  Paul  to  announce  himself  a  "  slave  of  Jesus 
Christ."  But  a  suggestion  only;  for  in  this  second  proposed 
parallel,  as  also  in  the  first,  a  very  essential  element  of  suffi- 
ciency is  wanting.  Paul  was  a  born  man  of  affairs,  a  born 
leader  and  lord  of  his  fellows.    If  a  modern  Julius  Caesar, 


PAUL  489 

superadding  to  the  culture  and  genius  of  Matthew  Arnold 
or  of  Goethe  the  commanding  and  organizing  force  of  the 
founder  of  the  Roman  Empire,  at  the  crisis  and  culmination 
of  his  self-aggrandizing  career,  were  to  scandalize  his  fol- 
lowers by  announcing  himself  some  fine  morning  "  a  bond- 
servant of  Joe  Smith,"  that  would  come  nearer  providing  us 
the  parallel  we  seek. 

I  have  insisted  thus  on  this  point  for  a  reason  which  will 
presently  appear.  But  first  let  us  dispose  of  a  question  which 
will  naturally  have  suggested  itself.  What  basis  have  we, 
either  in  contemporary  description  or  in  authentic  original 
remains  from  the  preacher's  own  lips  or  his  hand,  on  which 
to  found  an  estimate,  at  the  same  time  trustworthy  and  com- 
plete enough  to  be  useful,  of  Paul's  preaching,  its  character 
and , style  ?  Well,  it  must  be  confessed  that  data  are  not  so 
abundant  as  were  to  be  wished.  But  neither,  on  the  other 
hand,  are  the  data  existing  so  scanty  as  might  at  first  blush 
be  supposed.  True,  there  is  not  extant  a  single  fully  re- 
ported formal  sermon  of  Paul's.  But  there  are  sketches  and 
fragments  of  several,  so  given  as  to  throw  a  light  clear  and 
full  beyond  what  was  naturally  to  have  been  looked  for,  on 
the  probable  habitual  matter  and  manner  of  the  preacher. 
Besides  this,  we  have  very  clear  and  satisfactory  indication, 
from  a  competent  reporter,  of  the  line  of  thought  and  treat- 
ment followed  by  Paul  in  discourse  on  a  signal  occasion.  I 
refer  to  the  address  before  Felix  and  Drusilla.  In  this  case, 
the  narrative  describes  additionally  the  effect  produced  on 
the  chief  hearer.  Such  also  is  the  fact  with  reference  to  two 
other  incidents  of  Paul's  oratorio  experience,  his  address  on 
Mars  Hill,  in  Athens,  and  his  speech  to  the  mob  from  the 
stairs  at  the  Castle  Antonia  in  Jerusalem  —  while  here  also 
are  supplied  abstracts  or  sketches  of  what  Paul  said. 

If  it  be  objected,  "  These  are  not  instances  of  regular  ser- 
mons from  Paul ; "  that  may  be  admitted ;  but  one  address  at 
least  was  probably  as  formal  and  regular  a  sermon  as  it  was 
Paul's  usual  practice  to  preach  to  miscellaneous  audiences. 
Paul,  like  Jesus,  took  occasions  as  he  found  them,  or  as  they 


490 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


were  forced  upon  him,  and  preached  accordingly ;  often  doubt- 
less with  interruption  —  of  question,  of  challenge,  or  of  dis- 
sent —  from  his  hearers.  This  would  be  in  keeping  with  the 
well-known  somewhat  tumultuary  temper  and  habit  of  East- 
ern public  assemblies,  even  those  of  a  comparatively  ceremo- 
nious character;  much  more,  of  those  casually,  perhaps  ex- 
citedly, brought  together.  Such  public  speaking  as  that, 
so  called  out,  is  of  the  most  real  and  living  kind  in  the 
world ;  and  of  all  public  speaking  the  kind  most  likely  to  fur- 
nish fruitful  lessons  in  the  art  of  eloquence.  If  now  we  add 
a  reminder  of  that  touching  and  beautiful  address  of  Paul 
to  the  Ephesian  elders,  readers  will  see  that  we  are  by  no 
means  without  the  material  for  a  fairly  full  and  various  ex- 
amination and  study  of  Paul's  characteristics  as  preacher. 
Beyond  all  this,  Paul's  epistles  are  virtual  sermons,  often 
best  understood  when  studied  as  such.  And  then  —  what 
was  perhaps  least  to  have  been  expected,  and  what  also  per- 
haps is  least  likely  to  have  been  duly  considered  by  the  or- 
dinary reader  of  the  New  Testament  —  those  epistles  con- 
tain not  only  hints,  but  explicit  statements,  of  the  highest 
value  for  our  purpose  in  understanding  aright  and  intimately 
the  true  matter,  method,  spirit,  and  aim  of  this  greatest  of 
merely  human  preachers. 

Let  us  go  at  once  to  an  inestimably  valuable  statement 
of  the  kind  now  indicated.  Paul  had  one  master  thought  and 
feeling  —  thought  fused  in  feeling,  let  us  call  it  —  which 
was  ascendant  and  dominant  in  his  preaching,  as  it  was 
also  in  his  life.  That  thought  and  feeling,  that  passion  of 
both  mind  and  heart,  nay,  of  conscience  and  of  will  no  less 
—  for  the  whole  being  of  Paul  was  one  flame  herein  —  what 
else  was  it,  what  else  could  it  be,  but  consuming  zeal  to  have 
the  lordship  of  Christ  universally  acknowledged  by  men? 
The  apostle's  own  personal  experience  made  it  impossible 
that  this  should  not  be  so.  And  the  evidence  of  the  fact  that 
it  was  so  he  has  waterlined  ineffaceably  into  the  tissue  and 
fabric  of  his  writing.  But  we  are  not  left  to  such  mere  in- 
ference, however  overwhelmingly  strong.     Paul  has  put  it 


PAUL 


491 


into  express  record  and  testimony.     He  says  of  himself  asl 
preacher,  "  We  [I]  preach    .     .     .    Christ  Jesus  as  Lord." 

One  is  not  to  read  these  words  without  attaching  to  them 
their  own  just  and  definite  meaning.  They  mean  precisely 
what  they  say.  Paul  in  them  was  fixing,  in  permanent  un- 
changeable phrase,  a  statement  from  which  all  generations 
following  might  know,  first,  what  it  was  that  he  preached 
—  it  was  Christ  Jesus ;  and,  second,  how  he  preached  Christ 
Jesus  —  it  was  as  Lord.  Not,  observe,  as  Savior ;  not  as 
Teacher;  not  as  Example;  much  less,  as  Friend,  as  Brother. 
PauTpreached  Christ  Jesus  as  Lord. 

We  have  thus  at  once  reached  what  is  most  central  and 
most  regulative  in  the  principle  and  practice  of  Paul  as 
preacher  —  the  fact,  the  threefold  fact,  first,  that  he  preached 
a  person;  second,  that  that  person  was  Christ;  and  third,  that 
the  aspect  or  relation  in  which  he  preached  Christ  was  the 
aspect  or  relation  of  lordship  to  men.  But  are  we  not  stak- 
ing too  much  upon  a  single  text?  Let  us  see.  When  at 
Philippi  the  frightened  and  penitent  jailer  cried  out  his 
question,  "  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?  "  how  did  Paul  re- 
ply? "Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus."  Consider  what  that  re- 
ply imports.  It  requires  faith.  Yes.  It  requires  faith  in 
a  person.  Yes.  That  person  is  Jesus  Christ.  Yes.  Faith 
in  Jesus  Christ  as  —  what?  Savior?  No.  The  jailer's 
inquiry  indeed  was  for  the  conditions  of  salvation.  Yes,  but 
the  reply  did  not  direct  him,  in  terms,  to  a  Savior.  It  di- 
rected him  to  a  Lord.  "  Take  Jesus  Christ  for  your  Lord, 
and  you  will  be  saved  "  —  that  is  what  in  effect  it  said.  Je- 
sus Christ  is  a  Savior  to  any  man  that  takes  him  for  Lord. 

As  thus  to  sinners  repenting,  so  likewise  to  Christians, 
Paul  preached  forever  obedience  to  Christ.  In  showing  this 
to  be  true,  I  may  safely  ignore  the  critical  objections  that 
have  been  raised  against  the  authentic  Pauline  authorship  of 
the  epistle  to  the  Colossians,  and  treat  that  epistle  here  as 
being,  what  I  believe  it  is  indeed,  the  issue  of  the  one  mind 
and  heart  known  to  us  in  all  the  tide  of  time  that  could  have 
produced  such  writing,  namely,  the  apostle  Paul.    Take  this. 


492  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

then,  as  Paul's  master-direction  to  Christians  for  the  con- 
duct of  life:  "Whatsoever  ye  do,  do  heartily  as  to  the 
Lord ;  .  .  .  for  ye  serve  the  Lord  Christ."  I  do  not  for- 
get that  this  particular  instruction  was  directed  especially 
to  the  slaves  among  the  Colossian  Christians.  It  was  Paul's 
noble  decree  of  emancipation  for  those  unhappy  bondmen. 
They  were  to  escape  servitude  to  their  perhaps  cruel  mas- 
ters, by  feeling  themselves  bound  in  transcendent  obligation 
to  a  quite  different  Lord,  the  same  Lord  that  he  himself 
acknowledged  when  he  wrote  those  words,  or  dictated  them, 
"  Paul,  a  slave  of  Jesus  Christ."  What  exquisite  adapted- 
ness  of  teaching  on  Paul's  part  was  thus  exemplified !  The 
apostle  and  they  were  fellow-slaves,  bound  alike  to  serve  the 
Lord  Christ ! 

Obedience  to  Christ  as  to  a  Lord  having  supreme  right 
to  command  —  that  is  the  key-note  to  Paul's  effort,  whether 
for  unbelievers  or  for  believers,  whether  with  tongue  or  with 
pen.  Indeed  he  expressly  describes  his  mission  in  the  world 
as  having  that  idea  for  its  comprehensive  end  and  aim.  "  We 
[I],"  he  says,  in  writing  to  the  Roman  Christians,  "have  re- 
ceived grace  and  apostleship  for  obedience  to  the  faith 
among  all  nations."  Even  that  "  faith,"  of  which  Paul  has 
so  much  to  say,  is  conceived  and  presented  by  him  as  an  act, 
or  a  state,  of  obedience  to  Christ.  In  the  midst  of  a  fervid 
discussion  of  the  subject  of  righteousness  by  faith,  Paul 
speaks  of  obeying  the  gospel  as  a  thing  in  his  mind  equiva- 
lent to  believing,  nay,  identical  with  that.  Observe  this 
Pauline  consecution  of  thought :  "  Not  all  obeyed  the  gospel. 
For  Esaias  saith.  Who  hath  believed  our  report?" 
'  We  have  discovered  the  chief  thing  characteristic  of 
Paul's  preaching,  when  we  have  fully  seen  that  the  omni- 
present object  of  it  all  was  to  get  Christ  obeyed.  But  we 
need  to  understand  obedience  to  Christ  in  the  profound,  the 
all-inclusive,  sense  in  which  Paul  understood  it.  It  was 
with  Paul  no  mere  outward  conformity  to  specific  moral, 
much  less  to  any  ceremonial,  command.  In  Paul's  view,  there 
was  nothing  in  all  the  being  of  the  man  that  was  not  bound 


PAUL  493 

to  the  obedience  of  Christ.  To  that  obedience  was  to  be 
brought  captive  every  thought.  When  a  preacher  has  seized 
this  idea,  when  he  has  then  let  this  idea  seize  him  and  mas- 
ter him,  that  preacher  has  gone  the  farthest  that  any  one  step 
could  carry  him  toward  becoming  such  a  preacher  as  Paul 
was. 

After  the  attitude  on  Paul's  part  already  now  ascertained,] 
of  absolute  obedience  to  Christ,  next  to  strike  us  is  a  traitl 
in  him  of  even  greater  importance  to  distinguish  his  indi-l 
vidual  quality  among  preachers,  namely,  hjs^  sense  of  pecul-  ] 
iar,  incommunicable  relation  to  Christ  as  recipient  and  trustee 
oT~  immediate    revelation    from    Him.     This    sense    on    his 
part  is  a  note  that  keys  all  his  communications,  as  preacher 
and  teacher,  to  his  fellow  men.     It  is   impossible  for   the 
attentive  student  to  ignore  the  characteristic  in  Paul  that  I 
thus  point  out.     It  is  a  trait  different  from  mere  ardor  of 
conviction.     It  is  a  trait  different  from  natural  positiveness, 
self-assertion,  spirit  of  domination.    These  latter  traits  also 
marked  Paul  as  preacher  and  teacher.    But  over  and  above 
these,  supporting  these  while  qualifying  them,  was  an  au- 
thentic, unmistakable,  sense  on  Paul's  part  of  being  recipient 
and  trustee  of  special,  supernatural  revelation  from  Jesus 
Christ.    This  would  be  clear  enough  from  the  general  tenor 
of  Paul's  utterance;  but  he  has  put  the  matter  into  express 
and    emphatic    statement  —  statement    so    express,    so    em- 
phatic, as  to  warrant  us  in  saying  that  language  is  not  capa- 
ble of  asserting  such  a  claim,  if  Paul  has  not  asserted  this 
claim  for  himself.    To  the  Galatians  he  wrote:  "  The  gospel 
which  was  preached  by  me  is  not  according  to  man;  for  I 
also  did  not  receive  it  from  man,  nor  was  I  taught  it,  but' 
I   received  it  through  revelation  of  Jesus   Christ."     There 
follows  a  solemn  attestation,  nay,  an  oath  sworn  by  him  to 
the  truth  of  his  words  on  this  point :    "  Now  as  to  the  things , 
which  I  write  to  you,  behold,  before  God,  I  He  not."    If  Paul  \ 
was  a  sane  man,  and  also  not  a  conscious  perjured  liar,  he 
preached  and  taught  under  the  influence  of  direct  supernat- 
ural communication  as  to  what  he  preached  and  taught,  re- 


494  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

ceived  immediately  from  Jesus  Christ  Himself.  The  watch- 
word current  now,  "  Back  to  Christ ! "  when  it  is  used  — 
as  it  is  sometimes,  perhaps  most  commonly,  used  —  for  the 
comparative  discrediting  of  Paul,  as  a  source  of  Christian 
doctrine,  has  the  effect,  if  not  the  purpose,  of  disloyalty  both 
to  Paul  and  to  Christ.  If  Paul  was  a  sane  man,  and  if  he 
told  the  truth,  then  there  is  no  good  sense  in  calling  us  back 
from  him  to  the  evangelists,  for  our  information  as  to  what 
Christ's  gospel  is.  Paul  is  as  good  a  reporter  as  is  Mat- 
thew, for  instance.  If  there  is  any  discrimination  between 
them  to  be  made,  Paul  is  even  a  better  reporter  than  Mat- 
thew. He  was  a  finer  intelligence,  and  he  was  more  thor-\ 
oughly  trained.  He  had  as  much  sympathy  with  his  Mas-  i 
ter.  He  reported  apparently  with  less  interval  of  time  than  ' 
did  Matthew  after  the  receiving  of  the  thing  to  be  reported. 
What  point  is  there  in  favor  of  Matthew  to  place  him  su- 
perior to  Paul  as  representative  of  Christ  through  tongue 
or  pen?  That  is,  always  provided  Paul  was  neither  insane 
nor  mendacious.  "Back  to  Christ?"  Yes,  but  to  Christ  as 
Paul  represented  Christ,  not  less  than  to  Christ  as  Christ 
was  represented  by  the  evangelists.  Unless  Paul's  prodigious 
and  beneficent  influence  on  history  was  exerted  by  a  lunatic 
or  a  liar,  we  are  shut  up  to  admit,  what  stares  us  in  the  face 
from  every  page  of  Paul's  writing,  that  he  worked  his  work 
as  one  supernaturally  communicated  with  by  the  risen 
and  ascended  Christ,  This  is  a  brand  broad  and  deep  on  all 
we  have  from  the  brain  of  Paul. 

Another  conspicuous  characteristic  in  Paul  as  preacher  is 
th_e^tqne  of  authority  with  which  he  speaks.  This  tone  of  au- 
thority is  no  bold  mere  assumption  on  his  part ;  and  nowhere 
is  it  for  a  moment  felt  to  be  such.  So  far  from  being  an 
assumption,  an  arrogation,  prompted  by  pride  or  by  con- 
sciousness of  superiority  or  of  worth,  it  is  always  the  sign 
in  him,  the  unmistakable  sign,  of  a  sense  which  he  has  — 
a  sense  which  has  him,  say  rather  —  of  an  investiture  put 
upon  him  that  he  may  in  no  wise  rid  himself  of.  He  could 
not  divest  himself  of  it  if  he  would.    It  is  a  trust  received 


PAUL  495 

from  God.  He  is  helplessly  the  steward  of  it.  But  of  course 
I  do  not  mean  that  his  stewardship  is  against  his  own  will. 
His  will  joyfully  consents,  but  his  will  consents  humbly. 
He  wonders  and  adores  that  he  should  have  been  thus 
chosen.  He  expressly  recognizes  that  it  is  a  "  grace,"  as  well 
as  an  "  apostleship,"  that  he  has  received.  But  he  never  lets 
his  sense  of  the  grace  overcome  his  sense  of  the  apostleship. 
He  never  for  an  instant  doubts  that  he  speaks  as  the  oracle 
of  God. 

The  extraordinary  accent  of  authority  coupled  with  hu- 
mility, thus  found  in  Paul,  is  vitally  related  to  that  in  the 
man  which  was  first  to  attract  our  attention  in  the  present 
paper,  namely,  his  attitude  of  absolute  obedience  to  Christ. 
In  truth,  the  exercise  of  authority  on  his  part  is  less  in  spite 
of  his  humility  than  because  of  his  humility.  It  is  an  es- 
sential part  of  obedience  with  him.  He  could  not  obey 
Christ  without  using  authority;  for  he  is  bidden  use  it. 
Hence  the  nigh  unparalleled  example  that  Paul  gives  us  of  au- 
thority without  wavering  but  equally  without  assumption.  It 
is  really  mere  steadiness  of  obedience.  There  is  no  self- 
assertion  in  it,  no  egotism.  In  form,  Paul  does  indeed  now 
and  again  assert  himself.  But,  in  spirit,  there  is  still  no  self- 
assertion  ;  for  it  is  Christ  in  him,  or  it  is  he  in  Christ,  that 
speaks,  and  the  speaking  is  for  Christ  and  not  for  Paul. 
With  perfect  simplicity,  in  absolute  sincerity,  indignantly  he 
asks  in  self-effacement,  "  Was  Paul  crucified  for  you?  " 

Of  course  the  authority  that  Paul  thus  purely  exerts  re- 
lates itself  not  only  to  his  spirit  of  obedience  toward  Christ, 
but  also  to  the  consciousness  that  he  inalienably  has  of  be- 
ing in  a  peculiar  relation  to  Christ  as  recipient  and  trustee 
of  immediate  revelation  from  him.  This  latter  relation  to 
Christ  Paul  claimed  for  himself  with  definition  and  with 
emphasis  such,  that  if  his  claim  of  it  had  been  false,  the 
false  claim  itself  would  inevitably  and  justly  have  defeated 
his  influence  on  the  world.  That  his  influence,  in  quality  as 
in  quantity,  was  not  defeated,  is,  wisely  considered,  proof 
approaching  the  point  of  demonstration,  that  his  claim  of 


496  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

peculiar  authority  supernaturally  bestowed  was  a  true 
claim. 

We  have  considered  two  capital  characteristics  of  Paul  as 
preacher,  such  in  their  nature  that  they  can  not  be  pre- 
sented for  emulation  on  the  part  of  the  preachers  of  to-day. 
No  one  now  can  speak,  and  speak  with  a  sane  conscious- 
ness like  the  sane  consciousness  which  Paul  had,  of  speak- 
ing by  direct,  unmediated  communication  of  truth  from 
Christ;  and  no  one  now  can  speak  in  the  exercise  of  such 
authority  as  was  Paul's. 

But  Paul's  absolute  obedience  to  Christ  may  be  emulated; 
as  also  may  be  emulated  Paul's  absolute  fidehty  to  the  idea 
of  making  obedience  to  Christ  from  all  men  the  comprehen- 
sive object  of  preaching.  And  I  have  now  to  bring  forward 
another  trait  of  Paul  as  preacher  in  which  he  may  well  be 
emulated.  Paul  preached  in  a  tone  of  intense  personal  con- 
viction. It  might  seem  that  Paul's  sense  of  peculiar  rela- 
tion to  Christ  as  Christ's  oracle,  should  have  rendered  faith, 
on  his  part  —  faith  rising  to  the  degree  of  intense  personal 
conviction  —  a  matter  of  course,  a  matter,  as  it  were,  of  ne- 
cessity. But  such  was  not  the  case.  That  this  is  true  is 
shown  by  Paul's  own  confession.  He  says :  "  We  [I]  also 
believe  and  therefore  also  we  speak."  This  is  the  language, 
not  of  authority,  nor  of  present  overcoming  consciousness 
divinely  impressed  upon  the  user  of  the  language,  that  he  is 
the  inspired  and  infallible  organ  of  revelation  from  God; 
it  is  the  language  of  faith,  of  personal  conviction.  Of  the 
same  character  is  the  language  of  that  magnificent  climax, 
ending  the  eighth  chapter  of  Romans,  which,  by  sheer  vir- 
tue of  its  unsurpassable  eloquence  —  an  eloquence  that  in- 
deed transgresses  the  bounds  of  mere  eloquence,  and  passes 
into  the  realm  of  sublime  poetry  —  has  become  one  of  the 
most  familiar  commonplaces  of  literature :  "  For  I  am  per- 
suaded that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  princi- 
palities, nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor  powers, 
nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be  able 
to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God,  wkich  is  in  Christ  Je- 


PAUL  497 

sus  our  Lord."  The  triumphant,  the  soaring,  quality  of  the 
faith  that  thus  expresses  itself,  must  not  blind  us  to  the 
fact,  that  it  is  faith,  true  human  faith,  not  an  easy  accept- 
ance on  Paul's  part  of  peculiar  divine  inspiration.  Let  us 
make  no  mistake.  Paul,  we  must  suppose,  had  as  much  op- 
portunity, and  as  much  need,  of  exercising  faith,  as  has  any 
ordinary  Christian.  He  had  to  have  faith  in  order  to  re- 
ceive from  Christ  the  communication  that  Christ  wished  to 
impart.  Paul's  faith  was  the  ever-open  receptacle  for  the 
treasures  of  truth  of  which  he  thus  became  steward.  He 
preached,  therefore,  with  faith,  with  conviction,  vivid  and 
vivific,  and  not  simply  as  a  possessed,  and,  so  to  speak,  invol- 
untary, mouthpiece  for  the  Spirit  of  God. 

Born  of  his  conviction  was  that  inextinguishable  zeal 
which  was  a  further  characteristic  of  Paul  as  preacher. 
Paul's  zeal  was  as  tinder  to  his  energy.  The  two  together 
engendered  an  incomparable  locomotive  force  lodged  in  him 
—  like  the  enclosed  and  enkindled  powder  that  bears  the 
rocket  on  its  aspiring  parabola  into  the  upper  air.  There 
was  never  another  such  an  unresting  embodiment  as  was 
Paul,  of  disinterested  zeal  in  propagandism,  enlisted  on  be- 
half of  an  apparently  hopeless  cause.  When  just  consid- 
eration is  given  to  all  the  conditions  of  Paul's  case,  his  sin- 
gle-handedness, his  nakedness  of  apparent  weapon  against 
such  a  conspiracy  of  hostile  powers,  his  poverty  in  mate- 
rial resources  of  whatever  kind,  his  physical  ill-health  and 
weakness,  the  arrests  and  imprisonments  to  which  he  was 
subject,  the  indignities,  the  cruelties,  he  suffered  —  when 
these  things  are  duly  considered,  and  over  against  them  is 
placed  the  enormous,  the  yet  unexhausted,  the  apparently 
inexhaustible,  success  that  he  achieved^  making  the  world 
and  making  history  new,  I  confidently  submit  that  no  par- 
allel to  Paul  can  be  found  among  men  I  thus  speak  count- 
ing out  of  calculation  for  the  moment  the  supernatural  co- 
efficient that  multiplied  the  results  of  Paul's  activity.  I  am 
far  from  ignoring  that  supernatural  coefficient.  But,  re- 
membering it  well  and  according  to  it  much,  I  still  reckon 
FF 


498  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

Paul's  personal  achievement,  quality  and  quantity  both  con- 
sidered, something  that  surpasses  what  can  fairly  be  cred- 
ited to  any  other  individual  human  force  w^orking  in  his- 
tory. Alexander  the  Great,  Julius  Caesar,  Napoleon  Bona- 
parte, are  not  worthy  to  be  named  in  the  comparison  And 
it  was  the  extraordinary,  the  amazing  vis  vitoe,  pure  energy 
set  on  fire  of  zeal,  in  Paul,  that  —  exceptional  divine  assist- 
ance being  for  the  moment  left  out  of  the  account  —  should 
perhaps  mainly  be  esteemed  the  secret  of  his  power.  Such 
a  heart-beat  of  force,  forever  equal,  and  a  little  more  than 
equal,  to  its  need,  as  throbs  in  Paul,  like  the  pulse  of  a  great 
ocean  steamer's  engine  making  her  whole  hulk  tremble !  It 
might  seem  that  the  energy  thus  attributed  to  Paul  belonged 
to  the  man,  rather  than  to  the  preacher.  But  the  man  and 
the  preacher  are  always  inseparable.  And  what  differences 
preachers  one  from  another,  with  respect  to  the  total  volume 
of  influence  that  they  finally  exert,  is,  I  am  persuaded,  as 
much  as  anything  the  original  endowment  of  energy  which 
they  put  into  their  work.  Paul's  prodigious  energy  as  a 
man  was  not  only  an  indispensable  but  a  very  important, 
element  in  his  power  as  a  preacher. 

.1  have  already  alluded  to  the  advantage  belonging  to  Paul 
in  the  possession  of  an  intellect  thoroughly  trained  and  fur- 
nished for  the  work  that  it  had  to  do.  Paul  had  thought 
long  and  deeply;  and  the  quality  that  only  long  and  deep 
thought  can  give  to  a  man's  intellectual  product,  is  every- 
where recognizable  in  Paul's  writing.  We  are  quite  war-! 
ranted  in  assuming  that  the  character  of  his  preaching  cor- 
responded. It  was  a  thinker,  not  a  mere  homilist,  that  so 
easily  struck  out  that  fine  generalization,  with  its  illumining 
comment,  which  surprises  and  delights  us  as  we  read  the 
thirteenth  chapter  of  Romans :  "  He  that  loveth  his  neigh- 
bor hath  fulfilled  the  law.  For  this.  Thou  shalt  not  com- 
mit adultery,  Thou  shalt  not  kill,  Thou  shalt  not  steal,  Thou 
shalt  not  covet,  and  if  there  be  any  other  commandment,  it 
is  summed  up  in  this  word,  namely,  Thou  shalt  love  thy 
neighbor  as  thyself.     Love  worketh  no  ill  to  hi*  neighbor: 


PAUL  499 

love  therefore  is  the  fulfilment  of  the  law."  Luminous  gen- 
eral observations  open  vistas  and  prospects  into  wide  realms 
of  truth,  at  frequent  intervals  throughout  Paul's  writings. 
But  what  need  of  particular  instances  to  illustrate  Paul's  in- 
tellectual height  and  breadth,  and  the  richness  and  ripeness 
of  his  thought?  It  suffices  to  remember  that  one  of  the  very- 
greatest  intellectual,  as  well  as  spiritual,  achievements  in  his- 
tory, I  mean  the  erection  of  Christianity,  out  of  Judaic  nar- 
rowness and  sterility,  into  a  world-wide  religion  fit  for  all 
time,  was  due,  by  eminence,  to  the  sympathetic  comprehen-] 
sion  by  Paul,  as  a  thinker,  of  his  Divine  Master's  thought  1 
and  purpose  for  the  rescue  and  elevation  of  mankind. 

But  not  less  Paul  the  thinker  was  also  Paul  the  man  of 
affairs.  There  is  no  closet  atmosphere  about  his  writing; 
and  still  more  impossible  was  it  that  there  should  be  any 
such  atmosphere  about  his  preaching.  He  knew  men,  as 
one  who  was  himself  a  fellow  man ;  not  simply  man,  as  being 
a  philosopher.  He  lived  and  thought  and  felt  and  spoke 
in  a  world  of  concrete  realities.  Hence  the  omnipresent 
pertinency,  the  practical  adaptedness,  of  his  teaching.  He 
had  instant  infallible  sagacity  of  the  situation,  the  need. 
"  Making  a  difference  " —  his  own  words  of  advice  to  the 
young  preacher  —  might  be  taken  as  the  maxim  and  motto 
on  which  he  himself  practiced. 

Out  of  this  indescribable  realness,  livingness,  in  Paul, 
sprang  his  instinct  and  habit  of  availing  himself  of  oppor- 
tunity. It  was  a  perfectly  conscious  aim  with  him  to  be, 
in  the  best  sense  of  that  ambiguous  word,  an  alert  oppor- 
tunist. He  said  of  himself  that  he  became  all  things  to  all 
men  in  order  that  he  might  by  all  means  save  some. 
"Redeeming  the  opportunity"  (that  is,  making  thrifty  use 
of  the  passing  occasion's  particular  chance),  a  combination 
of  words  having,  where  it  occurs,  the  force  of  a  precept,  is 
another  expression  from  Paul's  pen  indicative  of  the  value 
he  set  on  the  idea  of  matching  the  moment  with  just  that 
moment's  fit  word. 

Of  close  kin  to  the  trait  in  Paul's  preaching  last  named. 


*5oo 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


yet  distinguishable  from  that,  and  worthy  of  separate  note 
was  his  habit  of  dealing,  as  Christ  also  dealt,  with  indi- 
vidual souls,  not  less  —  perhaps  more  —  than  with  masses 
of  men.  This  might  seem  to  be  a  pastoral,  rather  than  a 
homiletic,  habit;  and  such  no  doubt  it  predominantly  was. 
But  no  preacher  who  is  also  pastor,  as  was  Paul,  can 
fail  to  have  his  preaching  profoundly  affected  by  the  pas- 
toral quality;  and  that  quality  is,  discriminating  attention 
to  individual  souls.  Paul  emphatically  testifies  to  the  par- 
ticularity of  his  concern  for  those  to  whom  he  brought 
the  Gospel.  This  testimony  is  marked  with  repetition,  as 
well  as  with  emphasis,  of  statement;  and  it  is  very  instruct- 
ive. To  the  Ephesian  elders  meeting  him  at  Miletus,  Paul 
\  said :  "  Ye  know  .  .  .  how  .  .  .  I  .  .  .  have 
!  taught  you  publicly  and  from  house  to  house.  ...  I 
i  ceased  not  to  warn  every  one  night  and  day."  To  the 
Colossians,  he  wrote :  "  Whom  [that  is,  Christ]  we  preach, 
warning  every  man  and  teaching  every  man  that  we  may 
present  every  man  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus."  Nothing  could 
exceed  the  individualizing  spirit  of  such  faithfulness  in 
preaching  as  Paul  thus  describes,  claiming  it  to  be  the 
habit  of  his  own  apostleship.  To  the  Thessalonians :  "  Ye 
know  how  we  exhorted  and  comforted  and  charged  every 
one  of  you,  as  a  father  does  his  children."  Paul  then  did 
not  deal  with  men  as  it  were  by  wholesale  merely;  he 
aimed  his  lasso  at  individual  hearts  and  consciences.  To 
change  the  figure,  his  discourse  was  like  a  net,  flung  over 
his  hearers,  that  captured  them  one  by  one,  each,  so  to 
speak,  in  a  separate  mesh  specially  prepared  for  him  and 
specifically  aimed  at  him.  How  completely  that  instinct, 
and  that  cultivated  habit,  in  Paul,  of  which  I  shall  speak 
presently,  I  mean  his  quality  of  gentleman,  saved  this  intent 
individualizing  of  his  hearers  from  degenerating  into  offen- 
sive personality,  the  signal  example  of  his  address  before 
Felix  well  shows.  Here  Paul  gave  to  a  cruelly  unjust,  a 
grossly  licentious,  Roman  ruler  a  discourse  on  righteousness, 
on   self-control,  on  impending  judgment.     He  was   faithful 


PAUL  501 

enough  to  make  his  guihy  hearer  tremble;  but  at  the  same 
time  gentlemanHke  enough  not  to  affront  him. 

It  need  hardly  be  said  that  naturally  such  preaching  as 
that  thus  described  had  for  its  object  practical  results  im- 
mediately to  follow.  I  have  just  now  arrested  my  writing 
to  take,  by  a  rapid  perusal  of  the  narrative,  a  fresh  im- 
pression of  the  character  of  the  history  recorded  in  the 
Acts,  in  that  part  of  the  history  which  is  concerned  with 
the  activities  of  Paul.  There  is  nothing  more  striking 
about  it  than  the  intense  livingness  that  throbs  in  it,  and 
the  abouriding  fruitfulness  of  the  apostle's  labors.  He  went 
like  a  reaper  through  a  field  white  to  the  harvest.  He 
appears  everywhere  in  the  act  of  gathering  sheaves.  If  he 
struck  a  region  or  a  class  of  people  that  yielded  no  return 
of  fruit  to  his  labors,  he  went  elsewhere.  He  was  not 
satisfied  unless  he  saw  of  the  travail  of  his  soul.  This 
spirit  of  desire  in  him  tended  irresistibly  to  its  own  fulfil- 
ment.    It  will  always  do  so  in  every  preacher's  case. 

Ancient  eloquence  in  general  seems  not  to  have  indulged, 
so  much  as  modern  eloquence  (especially  perhaps  among 
English-speakers)  tends  to  indulge,  in  quest  of  illustration 
to  enliven  and  enlighten  discourse.  Paul,  accordingly,! 
judged  by  current  standards,  could  not  be  said  to  abound  in  \ 
illustrations ;  and  he  was  far  enough  from  being  the  master 
in  this  kind  that  Jesus  was.  Still  he  did  illustrate  strik- 
ingly, and  this,  as  in  contrast  with  all  the  other  New- 
Testament  writers  and  speakers,  deserves  to  be  especially 
noted  of  Paul.  Witness  his  consummate  analogy  adduced 
in  setting  forth  the  truth  concerning  the  fact  of  the  resur- 
rection. Witness  again  his  analogy  of  the  human  body 
with  its  various  parts  to  the  church  of  Christ,  whole  and 
one,  yet  made  up  of  individual  members.  Then,  too,  his 
vivid  imagery  drawn  from  the  equipment  and  discipline  of 
the    Roman   soldier. 

A  man  with  savoir-vivre  so  abundant,  tact  so  swift  and  so 
versatile,  as  were  Paul's,  could  of  course  not  be  wanting 
in  the  social  accomplishment  of  good  manners.     But  Paul 


502         MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

had  a  courtesy  that  went  much  deeper,  and  was  therefore 
much  surer,  than  good  manners.  He  was  a  gentleman  to 
the  very  heart  of  him.  To  be  sure,  it  is  from  Peter  — 
from  whom  less  perhaps  than  from  Paul,  was  to  have  been 
expected  such  an  instruction  —  that  we  have  the  precept, 
"  Be  courteous."  The  school  of  Christ  proved  to  Peter, 
as  it  proves  to  all  who  are  willing  learners  in  it,  an  ad- 
mirable school  of  good  manners.  But  Paul,  in  his  more 
wide-sweeping  way,  says  the  same  thing,  and  more,  when 
he  says,  "  Render  to  all  their  dues,"  which  is  the  very 
definition  of  politeness.  And  Paul,  under  all  circumstances, 
exemplified  in  his  own  conduct  what  he  thus  taught.  Once 
indeed  he  was  provoked  into  a  form  of  disrespect  toward  a 
Jewish  ruler  who  had  outraged  him  beyond  endurance.  But 
how  quick,  how  perfect,  how  consummately  high-bred,  the 
self-recovery,  and  the  amends  that  he  made !  The  mo- 
ment's lapse  —  if  lapse  it  ought  to  be  called,  that  fine  indig- 
nation against  insult  and  wrong  —  served  but  the  purpose 
of  bringing  out  into  stronger  relief  the  exquisite  self-control 
which  was  Paul's  habit,  and  which  is  the  basis  of  courtesy. 
Paul  had  so  much  unavoidable  occasion  to  challenge  men's 
passions  and  to  cross  men's  prejudices,  that  it  was  immense 
gain  to  him  not  to  affront  anybody  needlessly.  The  present 
writer,  during  a  period  of  his  life  in  which  it  was  a  part 
of  his  duty  to  advise  young  preachers,  proposed  to  them 
as  a  maxim  of  wise  pulpit  discourse  the  following:  "Yield 
to  your  audience  in  every  respect  save  that  one  respect  in 
which  it  is  your  present  object  to  get  your  audience  to 
yield  to  you."  Paul  exemplified  this  precept  in  his  practice. 
I  shall  seem  to  have  been  describing  a  negative  rather 
than  a  positive  quality  in  thus  attributing  to  Paul  the  grace 
of  high  breeding.  In  fact,  however,  Paul  sought  the  good 
will  of  those  with  whom  he  was  dealing  —  self-evidently 
always  seeking  it  for  their  advantage  and  not  for  his  own  — 
by  a  positive  practice  of  his,  proper  to  him  as  a  well-bred 
man,  which  deserves  separate  mention.  He  was  a  gen- 
erous bestower  of  praise  —  not  indeed  an  undiscriminating, 


PAUL  503 

but  a  generous,  bestower.  The  generous  measure  with  which 
he  bestowed  commendation  might  indeed  sometimes  almost 
have  made  Paul  seem  to  be  a  flatterer;  but  he  always  praised 
with  such  exquisite  delicate  tact  as  could  be  born  only  of 
innermost  truth  and  sincerity.  And  then  besides,  com- 
mendation from  him  had  a  certain  peculiar  character  of 
its  own,  fitted  to  make  the  persons  commended  feel,  less  that 
they  deserved  it,  than  that  they  should  be  glad  to  deserve 
it  better;  and  this  all  the  more  because  they  likewise  felt 
perforce  that  the  commendation  was  bestowed  to  that  very 
end,  and  not  merely  for  the  sake  of  giving  them  pleasure, 
much  less  for  the  sake  of  winning  their  favor.  Preachers 
may  learn  from  Paul  a  fruitful  lesson  both  in  the  practical 
value  of  praise,  and  in  the  holy  art  of  bestowing  it.  Note 
the  infinite  grace  and  delicacy  with  which,  for  instance, 
in  the  following,  from  the  epistle  to  the  Romans,  the  didactic 
earnestness,  the  magisterial  superiority,  of  the  apostle  is 
modulated  into  the  urbanity  and  complaisance  of  the  fellow- 
disciple  and  the  peer.  Who  could  resist  the  sweet  seduction 
of  praise  so  almost  unobservably  insinuated  ?  Who  could 
fail  to  be  inspired  by  it  and  uplifted  ?  "  For  I  long  to  see 
you,  that  I  may  impart  unto  you  some  spiritual  gift,  to  the 
end  ye  may  be  established ;  that  is  [and  now  as  if  the 
writer  would  change  his  tone  and  put  himself  alongside  of 
those  to  whom  he  was  writing,  in  a  relationship  of  equal 
reciprocal  helpfulness  playing  back  and  forth  between  him 
and  them],  that  I  may  be  comforted  together  with  you  by 
the  mutual  faith  both  of  ye  and  me." 

What  a  note  of  pathetically  joyful  appeal  by  praise  is 
sounded  in  this  rhythmical  verse  from  the  heart  of  Paul, 
in  his  epistle  to  the  Philippians :  "  Therefore,  my  brethren, 
beloved  and  longed  for,  my  joy  and  crown,  so  stand  fast 
in  the  Lord,  my  dearly  beloved  " !  There  is  no  praise  equal 
to  the  praise  which  consists  in  an  outburst  of  affectionate 
exclamation  like  that. 

Was  there  a  danger  near  —  the  danger  of  conceding  too 
much,    of    being   over-complaisant,    even   of   seeming    sub- 


504 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


servient?  Paul  avoided  this  danger;  still,  not  so  as  to 
escape  the  charge  from  his  enemies  of  loving  the  favor  of 
men  —  in  short,  of  being  a  trimmer.  He  w^as  aware  of 
being  thus  accused,  and  when,  on  one  capital  occasion,  he  felt 
obliged  to  use  sharper  language  than  he  liked  ever  to  do  to  his 
Christian  brethren,  he  alluded  to  the  false  accusation.  "  Do  I 
now  please  men  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  moment's  indignant,  but 
not  ungentle,  sarcasm.  Immediately  recovering  his  more 
natural  tone  of  candor  and  earnestness,  he  appealed  to  his 
life,  to  his  apostleship,  to  his  relation  of  bond-slave  to 
Christ,  for  his  vindication  against  the  charge.  If  my  object 
had  been  to  please  men,  he  said,  I  certainly  should  not 
have  gone  about  to  accomplish  my  object  by  making  myself 
a  bond-servant  of  Christ.  That  was  not  then  the  road  to 
popularity ! 

Such  was  Paul's  sensitive  fondness  for  deferring  to  others, 
for  being  complaisant,  that,  when  he  had  imperative  need 
to  use  sternness,  he  found  it  easier  to  do  so  in  letters  than 
in  face-to-face  contact  with  men.  This  habit  of  soft-hearted- 
ness  in  him  sometimes  prompted  those  who  opposed  Paul 
to  seek  their  ends  by  making,  to  the  persons  concerned,  a 
certain  representation  about  the  apostle  which  has  been 
strangely  misunderstood  by  many  readers  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, even  by  many  New-Testament  commentators.  Thus 
Paul's  opponents  told  the  Christians  of  Corinth  that  how- 
ever stern  he  might  be  in  his  letters,  they  need  have  no 
apprehension  of  his  being  seriously  severe,  when  he  should 
actually  be  present  among  them.  He  makes  great  demon- 
stration beforehand,  they  said,  of  what  he  will  do  when  he 
comes;  but  he  does  not  carry  out  his  threats.  His  letters 
are  formidable;  but  his  behavior  when  he  is  personally 
present  does  not  at  all  correspond.  As  the  passage  is  trans- 
lated, "  His  letters  are  weighty  and  powerful,  but  his  bodily 
presence  is  weak  and  his  speech  contemptible."  Paul  him- 
self cites  this  language,  to  assure  the  Corinthians  that,  if 
need  continue,  he  will  in  truth  show  himself  when  he  comes 
all  that  is  warned  and  threatened  in  his  letters.    The  phrase 


PAUL  505 

"  bodily  presence,"  which  the  context  proves  to  mean  only 
presence  in  the  body,  as  distinguished  from  absence,  has 
misled  students  to  find  here  an  allusion  to  Paul's  personal 
appearance  and  to  his  style  of  elocution,  both  which  ideas 
are  remote  from  the  thought  of  the  passage.  Of  Paul's 
physical  appearance  we  really  know  nothing,  and  nothing 
of  his  style  of  elocution  —  one  remarkable  trait  of  the  latter 
excepted,  a  trait  to  be  noted  hereafter  in  its  proper  place 
and  order.  We  certainly  have  no  reason  to  think  that  Paul's 
physical  equipment  for  oratory  was  in  any  respect  despic- 
able; tho,  had  this  been  the  case,  it  would  only  increase  the 
wonder   of  his   apostolic   achievement. 

Having  spoken  so  strongly  —  not  too  strongly  —  of  Paul's 
instinct,  and  habit,  and  skill,  of  adjusting  himself  to  occasion 
and  need,  I  must  now  not  fail  to  speak  as  strongly  —  and 
too  strongly  I  could  not  speak  —  of  his  eventual  unswerving 
fidelity,  both  in  word  and  in  deed,  to  his  convictions  of 
truth  and  of  duty.  Nobody  could  flame  hotter  than  he  in 
denouncing  iniquity;  nobody  use  language  more  towering, 
more  overaweing,  in  vindication  of  what  was  vital  to  the 
doctrine  of  Christ.  "  Tho  we  or  an  angel  from  heaven  \ 
should  preach  unto  you  any  gospel  other  than  that  which  we 
have  preached  unto  you,  let  him  be  anathema  " —  so  he  wrote 
to  the  Galatians.  He  dictated  the  letter.  One  can  imagine 
the  inspired  man  dilating  his  form  and  his  stature,  and  rais- 
ing his  hands  in  commination  to  heaven,  as,  pacing  his 
room,  he  poured  out  those  burning  words.  Then,  lest  the 
very  passion  of  those  words  should,  by  raising  a  suspicion 
of  hyperbole,  partly  defeat  their  purpose,  hear  him  immedi- 
ately repeat  them :  "  As  we  have  said  before,  so  say  I  now  j 
again :  If  any  man  preacheth  unto  you  any  gospel  other 
than  that  which  ye  received,  let  him  be  anathema  " —  as  if 
to  give  notice  that  not  one  jot  was  to  be  abated  from  the 
fulness  of  the  meaning  of  that  which  he  had  thus  so  start- 
Hngly  protested.  I  have  no  need  to  cite  anything  in  illus- 
tration of  Paul's  power  and  his  will  in  invective;  but  that 
branding  imprecation  of  his  upon  Elymas,  the  sorcerer  at 


5o6  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

Paphos  in  Cyprus,  springs  to  my  mind,  "  0  full  of  all  guile 
and  all  villainy,  thou  son  of  the  devil,  thou  enemy  of  all 
righteousness,"  etc. —  words  so  fierce  in  their  energy  that, 
as  one  reads  them  even  now  in  translation,  they  almost  seem 
capable  themselves  of  working  by  their  own  unaided  virtue 
the  blinding  effect  that  followed  them  —  yet  how  restrained 
withal  they  seem,  as  if  "  half  his  power  he  put  not  forth  " ! 

But  Paul  greatly  preferred  to  use  gentleness;  and  his 
gentleness  has  always  a  certain  fine  enhancement  of  effect, 
due  to  a  sense  inspired  all  the  time  that  the  user  of  it  had 
weapons  at  command  that  he  might  employ  to  compel,  or  to 
punish,  where  he  could  not  persuade.  What  eloquence  there 
is  in  an  appeal  like  the  following:  "Now  I  Paul  myself 
beseech  you  by  the  meekness  and  gentleness  of  Christ " !  "I 
Paul  myself  beseech " !  Paul  seems  conscious  of  some- 
thing paradoxical  in  what  he  is  saying,  or  rather  in  the 
attitude  he  here  assumes.  That  a  man  like  him,  a  man 
so  sensitively  alive  to  the  just  demands  of  his  own  char- 
acter—  that  he,  Paul  himself,  should  appear  in  the  posture 
and  act  of  one  "beseeching"!  And  then,  as  if  to  say, 
i  It  is  not  I,  the  natural  Paul ;  I  "  beseech  you  by  the  meek- 
mess  and  gentleness  of  Christ " !  How  exquisite,  how 
jinimitable,  how  like  Paul  —  Paul  alone,  of  all  men ! 

Strangely  enough,  Paul's  popular  reputation  is  perhaps 
chiefly  that  of  one  who  by  eminence  and  by  preference  was 
a  logician.  This  is  due  probably  to  the  disproportionate  and 
distorting  use  which  the  systematic  theologians  have  made 
of  Paul's  writings.  He  does  indeed  reason  in  them  —  after 
the  manner  natural  to  a  man  of  his  race,  and  his  time,  and 
his  mental  training.  But  Matthew  Arnold,  sadly  as  he 
failed  in  criticising  Paul,  was  quite  right  in  insisting  that 
such  writing  as  the  apostle's  was  not  dogma  but  literature. 
As  already  suggested,  Paul  preached  in  his  epistles;  he  did 
not  construct  a  theological  system  in  them.  Still,  there  was 
the  substance  and  there  was  the  effect  of  argumentation  in 
Paul's  representations  of  the  Gospel.  In  other  words,  there 
was  an  intellectual  basis  to  his  discourse.     If  Paul  had  not 


PAUL  507 

been  so  gravely  misrepresented  as  predominantly  logical  in 
his  mental  make-up  and  method,  I  should  have  felt  it  neces- 
sary to  say,  with  the  emphasis  which  just  proportion  seemed 
to  me  to  require,  that  an  important  element  of  his  preach- 
ing was  the  appeal  in  it  to  reason  and  judgment.  As  it  is, 
I  need  only  mention  the  undoubted  fact,  and  try  to  abate  the 
estimate  generally  prevailing  of  its  relative  importance  in 
a  true  appreciation  of  Paul.  He  was  indeed  a  doctrinal 
preacher.  But  he  was  still  more  ethical  than  doctrinal. 
His  doctrine  was  for  the  sake  of  conduct.  His  epistolary 
sermons  will,  in  important  instances,  be  found  to  hinge 
their  whole  inculcation  on  some  connective  word  or  phrase 
that  turns  the  discourse  from  doctrinal  exposition  to  in- 
sistence on  right  behavior.  Thus,  in  the  epistle  to  the 
Ephesians,  after  three  chapters  of  lofty  doctrine,  the  pivotal 
word  "  therefore  "  carries  over  the  discourse  to  inculcation 
of  practice  corresponding  to  the  doctrine.  "  I,  therefore, 
the  prisoner  of  the  Lord,  exhort  you  to  walk  worthy  of  the 
calling  with  which  ye  were  called."  The  motive  everywhere 
is  love  to  Christ,  born  of  Christ's  love  to  men.  It  is  Christ's 
atoning  love.  His  love  shown  in  sacrifice  of  Himself,  His 
vicarious  love.  "  Who  loved  me,  and  gave  himself  up  for 
me,"  is  the  sort  of  language  that  Paul  characteristically  used. 
To  the  Ephesian  elders  he  spoke  of  the  "  Church  of  God  " 
as  purchased  by  God  with  His  own  blood.  Such  language 
makes  Paul's  ethical  teaching  differ  by  the  whole  heaven 
from  the  ethical  teaching  of  those  who  treat  Jesus  as  a 
mere  Teacher,  and  not  as  a  suffering  Savior.  It  is  notice- 
able that  even  when  Paul  seems  most  purely  theological, 
when,  for  example,  he  is  setting  forth  his  master  doctrine 
of  justification  by  faith,  he  expresses  himself  in  language 
determined  by  his  favorite  pri'nciple  of  obedience.  Thus  he 
speaks  of  persons  not  "  submitting  "  themselves  to  the  right- 
eousness of  God.  He  conceived  of  the  doctrine  practically. 
Saving  faith  was  an  act  and  attitude  of  obedience. 

I  am  led  naturally  now  to  the  naming  of  a  further  trait  of 
first  importance  in  Paul's  preaching  —  a  trait  which  has  in- 


5o8  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

deed  already  been  shown,  as  could  not  but  be  the  case,  in  oc- 
casional glimpses  throughout  these  pages,  but  which  has  been 
purposely  reserved,  for  full  and  fit  signalization,  to  the  con- 
clusion of  the  present  paper.  No  one  whose  attention  has 
been  held  to  read  what  has  herein  previously  been  said  and 
implied  about  Paul's  just  intellectual  rank  among  men,  will 
commit  the  mistake  of  imagining  that  I  underestimate  his 
gifts  of  mind,  when  I  say,  as  I  do  say,  that  after  all  it. 
was  Paul's  heart,  almost  more  than  his  brain,  that  made 
him  the  preacher  that  he  was.  If  we  may  judge  from  the 
documents  in  evidence,  his  was  the  greatest  and  the  tender- 
est  heart  —  by  far  the  greatest  and  the  tenderest  heart  — 
that  beat  in  the  breast  of  any  one  of  the  apostles  of  Christ. 
It  was  Paul's  power  of  love  and  of  all  lovely  emotions,  quite 
as  much  as  it  was  his  intelligence,  that  enabled  him  so 
sympathetically,  beyond  all  peers  of  his  own  time,  or  of 
any  time  since,  to  take  up  the  thought  and  feeling  of  his 
Lord. 

It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the  "  mind "  of  Christ 
—  that  is,  the  peculiar  doctrine  and  spirit  of  Christ  —  is 
exhibited  in  Paul  with  such  a  fulness  of  varied  application 
to  life,  that  the  rich  and  beautiful  representations  of  the 
four  Evangelists  would  be  incalculably  less  effective  than 
they  are,  if  they  w^ere  w^ithout  that  inspired  apostolic  com- 
mentary to  interpret  and  apply  them.  Christ  chose  with 
marvelous  wisdom,  when  he  chose  Paul  to  be  his  apostle 
to  the  Gentiles.  We  dishonor  Christ  when  we  seek  to  honor 
him  by  disparaging  Paul  in  comparison  with  the  Evan- 
gelists. We  could  scarcely  better  afford  to  dispense  with 
Paul's  Epistles,  than  we  could  afford  to  dispense  with  the 
Gospels.  And,  rightly  read,  those  epistles  present  Paul  to 
us  as  a  great  magnetic  heart,  charged  full  from  Christ  with 
power  to  move  a  mighty  brain,  to  sway  an  imperious  will, 
to  subdue  an  importunate  conscience  —  in  short,  to  swing  a 
whole  majestic  manhood,  unswerving  through  a  lifetime, 
along  an  orbit  of  joyful,  harmonious  obedience  to  a  Master 
loved  and  adored  as  at  once  human  and  divine.    Yes,  let 


PAUL  509 

us  not  fear  to  say  it  —  for  it  is  the  truth  —  Paul  was 
markedly   an   emotional   preacher. 

This  we  know,  not  only  from  contemporary  narrative,  but 
from  Paul's  own  abundant  confession,  nay,  profession  and 
testimony.  For  this  great  man  was  emotional  to  the  degree 
of  frequent,  if  not  habitual,  capitulation  to  tears  in  his 
preaching.  Such  meaning  seems  unmistakably  implied  in 
this  from  his  address  of  farewell  to  the  Ephesian  elders : 
"  Watch  and  remember  that  by  the  space  of  three  years  I 
ceased  not  to  warn  every  one  night  and  day  with  tears'" 
That  is  one  only  of  two  allusions  made  by  him,  in  the  course 
of  the  same  address,  to  his  own  tears.  Even  in  writing  his 
letters  —  and  therefore  without  the  incitement  to  emotion 
furnished  in  the  presence  of  a  sympathetic  and  responsive 
audience  —  Paul,  he  himself  tells  us,  had  fits  of  weeping. 
He  repeatedly  appeals  to  his  tears  in  witness  of  his  love,  his 
longing,  and  his  earnestness.  To  the  Corinthians,  in  his 
second  letter,  he  said :  "  Out  of  much  affliction  and  anguish 
of  heart  [this  refers  to  a  previous  occasion  that  had  required 
severity  from  him]  I  wrote  unto  you  with  many  tears." 
Then,  as  if  not  thus  to  excite  in  them  a  painful  sympathy 
for  himself,  he  adds,  with  an  inimitable  delicacy  character- 
istic of  Paul  alone :  "  Not  that  ye  should  be  grieved,  but 
that  ye  might  know  the  love  which  I  have  more  abundantly 
unto  you."  Once  more,  in  his  letter  to  the  Christians  of 
Philippi,  he  writes:  "Many  walk,  of  whom  I  have  told 
you  often,  and  now  tell  you  even  weeping,  that  they  are 
the  enemies  of  the  cross  of  Christ." 

Of  course,  due  allowance  is  to  be  made  for  the  naturally 
more  demonstrative  impulse  and  habit  of  the  East,  as  con- 
trasted with  the  phlegm  and  self-repression  of  our  race. 
But  the  difference  is  not  all  a  difference  of  race  and  of 
climate.  Paul  is  the  only  one  of  the  apostles  of  whom 
such  emotional  outbreaks  appear  to  have  been  characteristic. 
Peter  indeed,  on  one  memorable  occasion,  "  wept  bitterly  " ; 
but  that,  so  far  as  the  record  enables  us  to  judge,  was  a 
solitary  exception  for  Peter;  and  it  appears  a  case  without 


5IO 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


parallel  in  the  experience  of  any  other  apostle,  save  Paul, 
In  truth,  Peter's  case  does  not,  even  for  that  one  exceptional 
occasion  of  his  weeping,  constitute  any  parallel  to  Paul's 
case,  Peter  "  wept  bitterly,"  for  the  tears  he  shed,  noble, 
affectionate  tears  though  they  were,  were  also  in  part,  tears 
of  remorse  and  of  shame.  Paul's  tears  were  altruistic, 
vicarious,  sacrificial;  he  wept  them  sweetly  rather  than 
"  bitterly." 

Now  I  am  quite  ready  to  admit  that  Paul's  readiness  to 
shed  tears  might  justly  be  reckoned  not  very  significant  —  if 
indeed  it  were  not  rather  even  to  be  reckoned  significant 
of  weakness  on  his  part  —  except  for  a  certain  highly  im- 
portant interpretative  fact  which  must  be  taken  into  account 
in  connection.  That  fact  is  this:  Paul  habitually  spoke 
and  wrote  under  an  influence  of  emotion  in  his  heart  such 
that  tears  were  not  unfrequently  the  inevitable  expression  of 
it.  Paul's  tears  were  not  the  easy  outflow  of  a  shallow 
sensibility.  They  marked  the  culmination  and  climax  of  a 
great  elemental  passion  in  his  soul  —  a  tenth  wave,  so  to 
speak,  of  the  sea  in  storm.  Whatever  Paul  thought  he 
thought  passionately,  whatever  he  believed  he  believed  pas- 
sionately, in  short,  he  was  passionate  in  whatever  he  did. 

I  can  not  be  misunderstood  to  mean  that  Paul  was  a  crea- 
ture of  unreasoning  impulse,  or  that  he  was  blindly  impetuous 
and  heady  in  a  frenzy  of  zeal.  On  the  contrary,  no  man 
was  more  considerate  than  he.  But  he  moved,  when  he 
did  move,  with  his  whole  heart.  The  entire  man  was  en- 
gaged. Still,  no  word  less  intense  than  "  passionate  "  would 
adequately  express  the  fervor  of  the  movement  in  which, 
with  Paul,  both  heart  and  brain  were  perpetually  astir.  Not 
that  he  could  justly  be  described  as  lacking  in  capacity  of 
repose.  But  his  repose  he  found  in  the  absolute  unobstruct- 
edness  of  uniform  advance  toward  a  goal.  It  was  a  peace 
like  the  peace  of  God,  which  is  reconciled,  we  know,  with 
incessant  activity.  "  My  Father  worketh  hitherto,"  Jesus 
said.  It  was  Paul  who  taught :  "  Let  the  peace  of  God 
["  Christ "  rather,  instead  of  "  God,"  should  perhaps  be  the 


PAUL  -511 

reading]  rule  in  your  hearts."  That  teaching  was  out  of  a 
spirit  in  the  teacher  that  had  itself  realized  the  peace  recom- 
mended. Passion  reconciled  with  peace,  was  Paul's  ex- 
perience. His  love  of  Christ  was  a  passion.  His  love  of 
his  fellow  Jews  was  a  passion.  His  love  of  all  men  was 
a  passion.  He  adored  passionately.  Witness  the  fountain- 
jets  of  doxology  that  every  now  and  then  unexpectedly,  in 
the  midst  of  his  epistles,  burst  like  the  vent  of  an  artesian 
well  out  of  the  levels  of  quasi-logical  discussion.  It  was 
a  passionate  heart  adoring,  that  forced  them  forth.  Nobody 
reads  Paul  right,  who  does  not  feel  the  oceanic  ground-swell 
of  emotion  that  continually  heaves  underneath  the  words. 
And  in  his  preaching  beyond  doubt  the  passion  was  manifold 
more  than  it  could  be  in  his  writing.  No  cold-hearted  logi- 
cian, like  what  Calvin  seems,  was  Paul.  And  then  the  infi- 
nite, all-loving  condescensions  with  which  this  great  man 
stooped  to  the  state  of  the  lowly  about  him!  How  he  min- 
istered to  the  slave !  How  he  toiled  with  his  hands  for 
his  own  support  while  he  preached !  "  These  hands,"  he 
eloquently  called  the  Ephesian  elders  to  witness,  "  have  min- 
istered to  my  necessities,  and  to  those  that  were  with  me." 
(I  could  not  refrain  from  italicizing  that  conjunction  — 
lest  some  reader  should  partly  miss  the  implication  it  intro- 
duces.) His  love  was  no  cloistered,  seclusive,  serene  senti- 
ment supported  by  mystic  contemplation.  It  was  a  hard- 
working,  practical,   ministrant   affection. 

When  I  think  of  this  man  with  his  magnificent  gifts, 
devoted,  all  of  them,  laboriously  devoted,  to  the  self-sacri- 
ficing service  of  his  fellow  men  in  life-long  absolute,  adoring 
obedience  to  the  crucified  Nazarene,  recognized  by  him  as 
the  Son  of  God  with  power;  when  I  think  of  his  claims 
to  be  recipient  and  trustee  of  unmediated  revelation  straight 
from  Christ  Himself  —  claims  that  must  be  acknowledged 
as  valid,  unless  they  were  either  a  wild  hallucination  or  a 
monstrous  lie ;  when  I  think  of  all  this,  and  then  hear  men 
crying,  "  Back  to  Christ  from  Paul !  "  I  feel  like  replying 
to  them :  "  Nay,  but  back  from  the  Paul  of  your  false  con- 


512 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


ception  to  the  real  Paul  of  the  Acts  and  the  Epistles;  and, 
through  this  Paul,  nearer  and  ever  nearer  to  that  Christ 
whom  he,  more  perfectly  than  any  other  of  the  sons  of  men, 
knew  and  loved  and  represented  in  word  and  in  deed !  " 

Two  more  characteristics,  paradoxically  united  in  the  apos- 
tle Paul  as  preacher,  must  still  be  taken  into  account  before 
our  analysis  of  his  extraordinary  personality  and  genius  can 
be  considered  even  approximately  complete.  Paul  was  at 
once  a  master  of  administrative  detail  —  that  is,  a  practical 
business  man  —  and  a  mystic. 

In  claiming  thus  for  Paul  that  he  possessed  the  qualifica- 
tions of  a  thorough  business  man,  I  have  not  in  mind  that 
large  capacity  of  organization  belonging  to  him,  which  gave 
him  such  success  in  establishing  churches  and  in  maintain- 
ing effective  oversight  of  them  through  suitable  subordinate 
agents  selected  and  directed  by  himself.  This  gift  and  skill 
of  his  I  have  already  adverted  to,  in  speaking  of  him  as 
an  accomplished  man  of  affairs.  But  Paul,  to  such  organific 
power  of  statesmanship,  superadded  a  certain  other  talent, 
/  —  a  talent  far  humbler  indeed,  yet  most  useful,  namely,  the 
!  sagacity  to  perceive  what  was  needed  in  the  way  of  means 
]  and  methods  for  the  carrying  out  of  designs  projected. 
i  What  other  man  than  Paul  could  preach,  as  Paul  could 
preach,  the  duty  of  almsgiving,  by  ennobling  appeals  to 
motives  the  highest,  the  deepest,  the  most  elemental?  The 
climax  of  such  appeals  from  Paul  was  finely  characteristic 
of  the  man  that  he  was :  "  For  ye  know  the  grace  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  how  tho  he  was  rich,  for  your  sake 
he  became  poor,  that  ye  through  his  poverty  might  become 
rich."  Yet  he  did  not  leave  it  to  eloquence,  even  over- 
mastering eloquence  like  this,  to  produce  its  effects  unaided. 
He  generated  the  motive  power  in  superabundance,  but  then 
he  did  not  neglect  to  provide  the  wheels,  the  bands,  and  all 
the  mechanism  necessary,  to  transmit  that  power  to  the  point 
of  fruitful  application  in  actual  work.  It  was  Paul  who,  in 
just  a  pregnant  line  or  two  of  one  of  his  letters,  struck  out 
the  plan  for  systematic  giving  which  is  now  almost  uni- 


PAUL 


513 


versally  acknowledged  to  be,  for  both  its  immediately  pro- 
ductive, and  its  permanently  instructive,  purpose,  the  most 
effective  plan  conceivable  by  the  wit  of  man  (i  Cor. 
xvi.  1-4)  : 

"  Now  concerning  the  collection  for  the  saints,  as  I  gave  order 
to  the  churches  of  Galatia,  so  also  do  ye.  Upon  the  first  day  of 
the  week  let  each  one  of  you  lay  by  him  in  store,  as  he  may 
prosper,  that  no  collections  be  made  when  I  come.  And  when 
I  arrive,  whomsoever  ye  shall  approve,  them  will  I  send  with 
letters  to  carry  your  bounty  unto  Jerusalem;  and  if  it  be  meet 
for  me  to  go  also,  they  shall  go  with  me." 

In  quoting  thus  from  his  language  a  little  more  than  was 
absolutely  necessary  to  set  out  Paul's  plan  for  systematic 
giving,  I  have  had  a  conscious  object.  I  wished  to  let  my 
readers  notice  in  what  manner,  with  what  admirable  business 
foresight,  circumspection,  and  tact,  Paul  arranges  for  the 
sending  of  the  Corinthians'  benevolences  to  their  proper  des- 
tination in  Jerusalem.  The  Corinthian  Church  was  to  elect 
messengers,  and  Paul  would  equip  these  messengers  with 
letters  of  introduction  from  his  own  hand.  (The  meaning 
may  be  that  the  credential  letters  should  issue  from  the 
church ;  but  I  have  preferred  the  marginal  rendering  [which, 
as  I  reconsider  this  paper,  I  find  to  be  also  the  preference 
of  the  American  Revisers]).  And  he  would  even  go  himself, 
if  it  seemed  desirable;  but  in  no  case  alone,  or  as  a  sub- 
stitute for  the  messengers  elected  by  the  Corinthian  Church ; 
these  men  should  by  all  means  accompany  him. 

The  reason  for  such  precaution  on  Paul's  part  would 
have  been  obvious  enough;  but  we  are  not  left  to  infer  it. 
In  a  subsequent  letter  to  the  same  church,  the  Corinthian, 
the  Apostle  expressly  states  his  reason  (2  Cor.  viii.  20) : 
"  Avoiding  this,"  he  says,  "  that  any  man  should  blame  us  in 
the  matter  of  this  bounty  which  is  ministered  by  us."  It 
should  be  left  in  no  man's  power  to  hint  that  perhaps  Paul 
converted  the  gifts  meant  for  the  distressed  Christians  in 
Jerusalem  in  some  part  to  his  own  personal  use  and  advan- 
ce 


514  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

tage.  Then  follow  these  words,  worthy  to  be  written  in 
letters  of  gold  as  a  maxim  of  prudence  for  every  trustee  of 
charitable  gifts :  "  For  we  take  thought  for  things  honorable 
not  only  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  but  also  in  the  sight  of 
men."  Paul  might,  of  course,  and  no  doubt  he  would,  have 
had,  silently  within  his  own  breast,  the  same  delicate  scruple 
of  honor  in  the  discharge  of  his  fiduciary  responsibility, 
without  guarding  himself,  expressly  and  openly,  as  he  did,  for 
Christ's  sake,  against  possible  suspicion  of  malversation  in 
office.  For  that  intimate  exercise  of  scruple  he  needed  only 
to  be  absolutely  incorruptible  in  heart ;  but  to  "  take  thought," 
as  he  did,  and  adopt  the  necessary  outward  precautions,  he 
needed  also  to  be,  by  instinct  and  by  habit,  a  practical  and 
practiced  business  man.  And  such  a  man  Paul  was,  to  a 
degree  not  always  recognized  as  it  ought  to  be. 

Measure  now,  if  you  can,  the  distance  which  separates  such 
homely,  painstaking,  practical  good  sense  as  that  just  exem- 
plified in  Paul  the  business  man,  from  the  almost  incoherent, 
almost  rhapsodical,  strain  of  the  following  language  (2  Cor. 
xii.  2-4)  : 

"  I  know  a  man  in  Christ,  fourteen  years  ago  (whether  in  the 
body,  I  know  not ;  or  whether  out  of  the  body,  I  know  not ;  God 
knoweth),  such  a  one  caught  up  even  to  the  third  heaven.  And 
I  know  such  a  man  (whether  in  the  body,  or  apart  from  the  body, 
I  know  not;  God  knoweth),  how  that  he  was  caught  up  into 
Paradise,  and  heard  unspeakable  words,  which  it  is  not  lawful 
for  a  man  to  utter." 

If  ever  there  was  mysticism,  surely  we  find  it  here.  In 
using  this  descriptive  word,  I  do  not  mean  to  imply  any 
doubt  of  the  reality  of  that  mysterious  rapture,  perhaps 
separating  him  from  his  body,  of  which  Paul  here  speaks, 
and  of  which  we  are  of  course  to  understand  that  he  himself 
was  the  subject.  In  the  verses  quoted,  language  breaks  down 
under  its  vain  effort  to  express  what  Paul  indeed  plainly 
declares  to  have  been  inexpressible.  Was  the  man  sane  who 
could  represent  himself  as  having  been  the  subject  of  such 


PAUL  515 

an  experience?  That  transcendental  language,  observe,  oc- 
curs in  the  self-same  letter  which  contains  the  wise  fiduciary 
principle  given  here  to  illustrate  the  extraordinary  sagacity 
in  attention  to  details  that  was  characteristic  of  Paul,  The 
writer  of  those  strange,  those  staggering,  statements,  was 
perfectly  conscious  of  their  exceptional  character.  He  almost 
immediately  checked  himself,  and  confessed  that,  for  his  own 
spiritual  health  and  safety,  he  was  afflicted  as  peculiarly,  as 
he  was  peculiarly  honored.  He  then,  with  admirable  so- 
briety, went  on  to  say :  "  I  have  become  foolish ;  ye  com- 
pelled me."  Yet  it  remains  that  there  is  no  withdrawal,  no 
abatement,  there  is  increase  rather,  of  his  mystical  claim. 
He  avers  that  he  might  tell  more  of  the  same  sort,  and  still 
be  speaking  only  sober,  absolute  truth.  Yes,  the  apostle 
Paul  was  a  mystic,  as  truly  as  he  was  a  master  business 
man.  His  rich  endowment  of  common  sense  he  may  be 
said  to  have  needed,  to  act  as  a  kind  of  ballast,  keeping 
steady  and  safe  the  movement  of  a  mind  in  him  gifted  with 
a  quite  extraordinary  tendency  to  escape  the  limitations  that 
bound  it  to  the  earthly  sphere  and  to  soar  away  into  the 
realm  of  the  supersensual. 

We  have  thus  far,  it  will  have  been  noted,  throughout  our 
whole  discussion,  dealt  almost  exclusively  with  the  spirit 
and  method  of  Paul  as  preacher,  or  with  the  traits  in  his 
genius  and  character  that  gave  his  preaching  such  power. 
It  remains  now  to  speak  —  very  briefly  it  must  be  —  of  the 
matter  of  his  preaching. 

I  have  heretofore,  as  may  be  remembered,  insisted  very 
strongly  that  the  idea  of  personal  obedience  to  Christ  was  the 
animating  and  regulating  principle  of  Paul's  apostleship. 
That  this  idea  did  indeed  occupy  that  place  in  his  mind  and 
heart,  is  evident  from  his  own  words,  in  what  may  be  called 
the  inscription  to  his  letter  to  the  Romans:  "  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord  through  whom  we  received  grace  and  apostleship  unto 
obedience  of  the  faith  among  all  nations."  But,  notwith- 
standing the  capital  importance  thus  attributed  by  me  to 
the  idea  of  obedience  to  Christ,  as  controlling  Paul's  con- 


5i6  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

ception  of  his  work  and  mission  in  the  world,  it  would  be 
a  mistake  to  imagine  that  I  propose  this  idea  as  constituting 
the  sum  and  substance,  or  even  the  chief  part  of  the  sum 
and  substance,  of  Paul's  preaching.  Still,  a  part  it  was  of 
his  doctrine,  a  very  important  part;  this,  besides  being  the 
informing  spirit  and  the  guiding  principle  of  his  activity 
as  preacher. 

How  important  a  part  of  Paul's  doctrine  the  idea  thus 
recurred  to  necessarily  was,  will  instantly  be  apparent  when 
once  is  fully  comprehended  what  was  the  length  and  the 
breadth  and  the  depth  and  the  height  of  that  idea  as  Paul 
held  it.  The  inclusion  of  it  and  the  application  of  it  were 
in  his  view  absolutely  universal.  Richard  Hooker's  famous 
apotheosis  of  Law  was  fully  realized  in  Paul's  conception 
of  the  will  of  Christ  as  binding  on  every  soul  of  man. 
Hooker  said:  "All  things  in  heaven  and  earth  do  her 
homage,  the  very  least  as  feeling  her  care,  and  the  greatest 
as  not  exempted  from  her  power."  So,  ideally,  in  Paul's 
view,  the  universe  of  beings,  great  and  small,  owed  fealty 
to  Jesus.  The  following  is  his  mighty  language ;  omnipotence 
seems  to  heave  like  a  ground-swell  of  the  sea  underneath  it: 

"Wherefore  also  God  highly  exalted  him  and  gave  him  the 
name  which  is  above  every  name  [that  is,  the  name,  Lord]  that 
in  the  name  of  Jesus  every  knee  should  bow,  of  beings  in  heaven, 
and  of  beings  on  earth,  and  of  beings  under  the  earth,  and  every 
tongue  confess  that  Jesus  Christ  is  Lord  to  the  glory  of  God 
the  Father." 

So  much  for  the  universal,  all-embracing  extension  of  the 
sway  of  Jesus.  The  intension  of  it  corresponds.  For  the 
very  thought  of  the  mind  is  to  be  subject,  as  also  every 
impulse  of  the  heart.  Jesus,  according  to  Paul,  is  to  be  Lord 
of  the  belief  of  men.  Whatever  He  says,  is  to  be  believed, 
even  as  whatever  He  bids,  is  to  be  done.  There  is  no  exemp- 
tion, no  exception,  no  escape. 

As  has  previously  been  pointed  out,  Paul  made  the  most 
distinct  and  unmistakable  claim  to  being  trustee  of  revelation, 


PAUL  517 

as  to  the  gospel  that  he  preached,  received  directly  and  with- 
out mediation  of  any  sort,  from  the  risen  and  ascended 
Lord.  This  we  know  from  his  letter  to  the  Galatians.  That 
revelation  from  Christ,  Paul  received  in  the  spirit  of  absolute 
obedience  on  his  own  part;  and  he  everywhere  proclaimed 
it  with  the  demand  of  absolute  obedience  on  the  part  of  those 
who  heard  the  proclamation.  The  obedience  to  Christ  which 
he  himself  rendered,  as  well  as  the  obedience  to  Christ  which 
he  uncompromisingly  challenged  from  others,  covered  thus 
the  whole  range  of  doctrine  inculcated  by  him.  Under  the 
never-intermitting  dominance  of  the  idea  of  subjection  due 
to  Christ  as  the  revealing  Lord,  he  preached  a  vast  system 
of  doctrine,  in  fact,  a  whole  rational  and  practical  theology. 

There  is  one  expression  used  by  Paul  that  is  sometimes 
misunderstood  to  be  a  virtual  disclaimer  on  his  part  of  any 
authority  vested  in  him  to  govern  the  faith  of  Christians. 
This  solitary  expression  capable  of  such  misconstruction 
would  of  course  be  overwhelmingly  overborne  by  the  quite 
unmistakable  contrary  tenor  of  Paul's  teaching  in  general ; 
but  it  is  perhaps  worth  while  to  point  out  the  true  meaning 
of  the  apparently  exceptional  passage  in  question.  In  Sec- 
ond Corinthians,  first  chapter,  last  verse,  Paul  says :  "  Not 
that  we  have  lordship  over  your  faith."  "  Have  lordship  " 
is  a  misleading  translation;  the  translation  should  be:  "We 
are  not  lording  it  over  your  faith ;  .  .  .  for  in  faith  ye 
stand  fast."  Paul  is  not  speaking  at  all  here  of  the  author- 
ity which  is  his,  least  of  all  in  order  either  to  disclaim  it 
or  to  limit  it;  he  is  speaking  of  what  he  is  at  that  moment 
engaged  in  doing.  He  simply  explains  that  he  is  not  at 
that  moment  exercising  lordship  over  the  Corinthians'  faith ; 
on  the  contrary,  he  is  merely  helping  their  joy.  In  point 
of  faith  they  are  not  lacking;  they  already  stand  fast  in 
their  faith.  Indeed,  interpreted  with  wise  consideration  of 
the  general  tenor  of  Paul's  epistles,  and  perhaps  especially 
of  his  epistles  to  the  Corinthians,  this  text  yields  an  implica- 
tion that  Paul  is  conscious  of  having  the  authority,  which 
now,  however,  he  is  not  exercising  —  as  there  is  no  present 


5i8  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

need,  the  Corinthian  Christians  being  already  fast  in  sound 
faith. 

What  were  the  chief  points  of  that  gospel  which  Paul 
received  by  direct  revelation  from  Christ?  As  to  two  at 
least  of  those  points,  happily  the  first  extant  letter  to  the 
Corinthians  removes  all  possible  question  or  doubt.  He  says 
to  the  Corinthians :  "  I  delivered  to  you  first  of  all  what 
I  also  received,  that  Christ  died  for  our  sins  according  to  the 
Scriptures."  He  then  proceeds  to  insist,  with  much  array  of 
evidence,  on  the  fact  of  Christ's  resurrection.  This  fact 
was  a  keystone  fact  in  the  Christian  faith,  and  as  such  Paul 
powerfully  presents  it.  But  take  note  of  the  first  article  of 
Paul's  gospel ;  it  is  that  "  Christ  died  for  our  sins."  This 
is  simple  language;  it  states  a  fact  and  leaves  the  statement 
perfectly  bare;  that  is  to  say,  it  accompanies  it  with  no 
comment,  no  theory.  The  fact,  then,  is  here,  of  what  has 
come  to  be  called  the  atonement ;  the  fact,  but  not  the  doctrine 
—  so  far  at  least  as  doctrine  may  be  held  to  imply  reason 
and  philosophy. 

But  stay,  perhaps  we  are  hasty  in  excluding  the  element  of 
doctrine  from  this  simple  statement  of  fact  concerning 
Christ's  death.  Let  us  see.  The  immediate  sequel  makes  it 
plain  that  the  subject  which  at  the  moment  absorbed  the 
interest  of  the  apostle,  was  the  accomplished  resurrection 
of  Christ,  and,  with  that,  the  future  resurrection  of  all  the 
dead.  It  is  a  thing  therefore  worthy  of  note  that  in  hasten- 
ing forward  to  contact  and  grapple  with  this  absorbing 
theme,  he  should,  to  the  mere  statement  that  Christ  died, 
have  added  the  words,  "  for  our  sins,  according  to  the  Scrip- 
tures." When  he  goes  on  to  say  that  Christ  "  was  buried," 
to  that  mere  statement  he  adds  nothing.  There  is  doctrine, 
then,  after  all  found  here  —  the  doctrine  that  Christ's  death 
was  "  for  our  sins." 

That  is  an  extremely  simple  phrase.  What  does  it  mean? 
Does  it  mean,  can  it  mean,  only  that  Christ  died  by  reason 
of  our  sins;  that,  but  for  our  sins,  He  would  not  have  been 
crucified;  that  His  crucifixion   involved   sin   in  those  who 


PAUL  519 

were  responsible  for  it?  It  is  true  enough  that  if  those  who 
put  Christ  to  death  had  not  sinned,  they  would  not  have 
put  Christ  to  death.  By  reason  of  their  sins,  on  account  of 
their  sins,  Christ  died.  But  Paul  says,  "  for  our  sins  " — 
evidently  including  with  himself  those  to  whom  he  was 
writing,  namely,  Corinthians  who  had  nothing  directly  to 
do  with  the  crucifixion  of  Jesus.  The  meaning,  therefore, 
of  the  words  "  for  our  sms,"  in  Paul's  present  use  of  them, 
must,  interpreted  by  the  general  purport  of  his  teaching  on 
this  subject,  be  that  Christ  died  in  expiation  of  our  sins, 
that  He  died  vicariously,  that  He  died  an  atoning  death. 
This  is  doctrine;  and  the  fact  that  this  doctrine  is  here 
introduced  at  all,  is  proof  that  it  was  a  doctrine  supremely 
important  in  Paul's  view. 

I  am  inclined  indeed  to  believe  that  the  doctrine  of  the 
atonement,  waterlined  as  we  find  it  in  the  whole  warp  and 
woof  of  Paul's  epistolary  writing,  and  therefore  no  doubt 
pervasive  too  in  his  preaching,  was  still  a  doctrine  reserved 
by  him  for  impartation  and  exposition  to  believers,  and  not 
a  doctrine  preached  by  him  in  the  first  instance  to  those  who 
had  not  yet  accepted  Christ  for  Master.  It  is  a  doctrine 
which  can  not,  by  any  ingenuity,  or  any  eloquence,  of  pres- 
entation, be  commended  to  the  natural  reason  of  men. 
There  must  first  be  the  obedient  heart,  before  a  mystery 
of  grace  like  the  atonement  can  be  with  hope  proposed  to 
human  acceptance.  The  resurrection  of  Christ,  on  the  con- 
trary, was  an  historical  fact  capable  of  being  adequately 
attested.  Paul  accordingly  at  Athens  preached  Jesus  and  the 
resurrection.  Such  preaching  was  exactly  adapted  to  bring 
about  acceptance  of  Christ  as  Lord ;  and  with  Christ  first  ac- 
cepted as  Lord,  subsequent  indoctrination  in  all  the  deep 
things  of  the  Christian  faith  was  natural  and  easy.  Those 
mysteries,  and  mysteries  they  most  of  them  are,  were  ac- 
cepted (when  accepted)  in  acts  of  faith  ;  that  is,  in  acts  of 
obedience  to  Christ  rendered  by  the  loyal  mind  and  the  loyal 
heart  of  him  who  had  first  accepted  Christ  for  Master. 
The  faith  exercised  was  itself  obedience,  obedience  of  the 


520  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 

mind  and  of  the  heart.  Paul  so  conceived  it  and  so  repre- 
sented it.  Hence  such  expressions  as  these  from  his  pen: 
"  obedience  of  the  faith,"  "  obeying  the  gospel,"  "  submitting 
to  the  righteousness  of  God,"  "  obedient  from  the  heart  to 
that  form  of  doctrine  whereunto  ye  were  delivered." 

The  words  just  now  italicized  are  significant.  They  imply, 
as  a  necessary  condition  of  discipleship,  an  attitude  or  a  state 
of  subjection  to  doctrine,  on  the  part  of  believers,  entered 
upon  in  conversion ;  entered  upon,  that  is,  in  the  very  first  act 
of  obedience  to  Christ,  namely,  the  act  of  accepting  him  for 
Master.  That  accepting  Christ  for  Master  was  in  Paul's 
view  the  simple,  but  sufficient,  test  of  the  regenerate  heart,  is 
shown  in  his  saying :  "  No  man  can  say,  Jesus  is  Lord, 
but  in  the  Holy  Spirit." 

Paul  was  a  doctrinal  preacher,  he  was  eminently  a  doc- 
trinal preacher,  but  his  preaching  of  doctrine  was  always 
in  the  spirit  of  challenge  to  obedience,  obedience  to  be  ac- 
complished by  the  mind  and  the  heart.  He  seldom  or  never 
argued  for  the  distinctive  Christian  doctrines  that  he 
preached,  unless  citation  of  Old-Testament  Scripture  be  con- 
sidered argument ; —  but  that,  as  I  think,  should  rather  be  con- 
sidered pure  appeal  to  authority.  He  announced  his  doc- 
trines, he  expounded  them,  he  illustrated  them,  but  he  did 
not  try  to  establish  them  by  reasoning  and  by  evidence.  As 
to  the  facts  that  he  preached  it  was  otherwise.  The  fact  of 
Christ's  resurrection  he  argued  for,  he  established  it  by  testi- 
mony. That  fact  once  proved,  Christ's  lordship  was  proved 
with  it.  Christ's  lordship  proved,  the  way  was  open  to 
Paul  for  preaching  the  revelation  of  doctrine  received  by 
him  from  Christ,  as  matter  of  belief  depending  for  certifica- 
tion on  Christ's  authority  alone.  It  had  by  him  been  re- 
ceived, and  it  was  by  them  to  be  received,  by  faith ;  by  faith 
which,  let  me  repeat  it,  was  in  fact  obedience. 

It  is,  of  course,  out  of  the  question  to  offer  here  the 
briefest  summary  even  of  the  doctrine  that  Paul  preached; 
nor  would  it  be  to  the  purpose  of  the  present  discussion.  Not 
a  jot  or  tittle  is  to  be  abated  from  the  inestimable  value 


PAUL  521 

justly  set  upon  Paul's  writings  as  a  source  of  Christian 
doctrine.  Paul  was  the  great  theologian  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. But  he  preached  his  theology;  and  he  preached  it 
as  theology  ought  to  be  preached,  that  is,  with  a  view  to  its 
influence  on  behavior.  He  aimed  to  produce  by  it  a  full, 
intelligent  obedience,  outward  and  inward,  to  Christ.  I 
attach  as  much  importance  as  does  anybody  to  orthodoxy.i 
But  there  is  something  yet  more  important  than  orthodoxy,! 
and  that  something  is  the  spirit  that  produces  orthodoxy,' 
namely,  the  spirit  of  obedience  to  Christ.  The  tendency  of 
these  times  in  religion  is  to  throw  off  the  yoke  of  authority. 
What  we  need  most  of  all  is  an  era  of  obedience.  That 
will  bring  about  an  era  of  orthodoxy.  But  the  orthodoxy 
produced  will  still  be  an  infinitely  less  good  than  the  obedi- 
ence that  produced  it.  Not  Paul  as  the  theologian,  but 
Paul  as  the  bond-servant  of  Jesus,  and  the  winner  of  men 
to  bond-service  in  fellowship  with  himself  —  such  is  the 
Paul  that  by  eminence  the  present  age  needs  to  recognize 
and  to  hail. 

I  regard  it  as  an  ominous  symptom  of  revolt,  on  the  part 
of  current  Christianity,  against  the  mastership  of  Jesus  — 
the  disposition  rife  now  to  talk  about  return  to  Jesus  from 
Paul.  It  is  none  the  less  revolt  because  it  may  be  uncon- 
scious revolt.  With  the  most  awe-inspiring  attestation  con- 
ceivable from  heaven,  Jesus  accredited  Paul  to  be  for  all 
time  His  own  chief  prophet  to  the  world.  How  specious, 
how  delusive,  the  dream  of  achieving  a  superior  fidelity  to 
Jesus,  by  resorting  to  the  words  reported  from  his  lips  of 
flesh,  through  historians  self-confessed,  and  by  the  Master 
declared,  to  be  slow  of  heart  and  dull  of  apprehension,  and 
treating  as  of  less  import  the  majestic  revelations  confided 
from  heaven,  by  the  risen  and  ascended  Lord,  to  the  pre- 
pared and  sympathetic  spirit  of  a  man  like  Paul !  What 
loyalty  to  Christ  Jesus  is  that? 

Paul,  like  his  Lord,  was  fond  of  paradoxes,  and,  like  his 
Lord,  he  presented  in  himself  a  miracle  of  paradoxes  recon- 
ciled.    He  was  at  once  lowly  and  lordly.    He  rendered  obe- 


522 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


dience,  but  he  demanded  obedience.  The  obedience  he  ren- 
dered was  to  Christ,  and  the  very  demand  that  he  sometimes 
made  of  obedience  to  himself  from  others  was  made  as  part 
of  his  own  obedience  to  Christ.  Others'  obedience  to  Paul 
was  thus  in  fact  their  obedience  to  Christ. 

That  text  which,  at  a  point  near  the  beginning  of  this 
discussion  of  Paul  as  preacher,  was  said  to  be  a  text  so  full 
and  rich  in  revelation  of  the  character  of  Paul's  preaching, 
"  We  preach  not  ourselves  but  Christ  Jesus  as  Lord,"  is 
worthy  of  more  study  than  we  then  gave  it.  It  has  not  only 
express  meanings,  but  an  implicit  meaning.  Expressly,  it 
disclaims  and  claims  both  at  once.  It  disclaims  for  Paul 
the  habit  on  his  part  of  preaching  himself  as  lord.  It  claims 
for  Paul  the  habit  of  preaching  Christ  as  Lord.  But  the  im- 
plicit meaning  is  important.  That  meaning  is,  that  Paul 
stood  conspicuously  before  his  hearers  in  the  attitude  of  one 
demanding  obedience.  The  charge  against  him  of  his  antag- 
onists evidently  had  been  that  he  was  a  domineering  spirit. 
This  charge  would  not  have  been  made  unless  he  habitually 
demanded  obedience.  Paul  admits,  nay,  he  insists,  that  in 
fact  he  did;  but  he  says  it  was  not  in  effect  obedience  to 
himself  that  he  demanded,  but  obedience  to  Christ.  And  it 
was  to  Christ,  not  simply  as  Christ  is  represented  in  the 
gospels  (the  gospels,  indeed,  as  we  have  them,  did  not  then 
exist),  but  to  Christ  as  Christ  revealed  Himself,  apart  from 
the  gospels,  to  Paul.  Nobody  can  refuse  to  hear  Paul 
without  refusing  to  hear  Christ;  for  Christ  has  chosen  to 
speak  through  Paul. 

I  will  not  conceal  my  conviction  that  a  crisis  is  to-day 
upon  the  church  of  Christ,  as  grave  as  any  that  ever  has 
put  her  to  test.  It  is  not  that  there  is  so  much  disposition 
to  depart  from  traditional  orthodoxy.  It  is  not  that  there 
is  so  much  disposition  to  subject  the  Bible  to  criticism. 
These  tendencies  are  not  in  themselves  dangerous;  they  are 
even  wholesome.  Not  in  themselves  dangerous ;  but,  in  so  far 
as  they  are  symptoms  of  revolt  against  Christ  speaking 
through  Paul,  they  are  dangerous  in  the  extreme.     Paul,  let 


PAUL  523 

it  be  well  understood  and  remembered,  is  the  chief  voice  of 
the  glorified  Christ,  speaking  to  His  church  and  to  the  world. 
When  Christ  met  this  man  on  his  way  to  Damascus,  in  the 
glory  and  the  terror  of  that  great  light,  it  was  as  if  a 
Voice  uttered  again  from  heaven  the  same  words  that  once 
accredited  the  incarnate  Son  of  God,  and  said  also  of 
Paul,  "  Hear  ye  him." 

Jesus  is  amply  patronized  now,  admired,  lauded  —  loved, 
I  was  about  to  add;  but  I  remembered  His  own  saying, 
"  He  that  hath  my  commandments  and  keepeth  them,  he  it  is 
that  loveth  me,"  and  then  I  wondered.  Is  He  indeed  loved? 
For,  with  all  the  ascription  to  Jesus  that  is  current  and 
customary  now  in  our  speech  and  our  writing  about  Him, 
is  He  obeyed?  Do  we  bow  down  to  Him  as  Master? 
Do  we  take  upon  us  the  yoke  of  His  authority?  As  for  the 
matter  of  attestation,  what  Jesus  has  given  us,  for  obedience, 
through  Paul,  is  not  less,  it  is  rather  more,  attested  than 
what  is  reported  as  having  been  given  us  from  His  living 
human  lips.  For  my  own  part,  often  when  I  hear  Jesus 
praised,  as  it  is  the  fashion  of  our  time  to  praise  Jesus,  I 
listen  and  seem  to  catch  the  tones  of  His  voice  saying  over 
and  over  again  those  solemn  words  of  rejection  from  His 
mouth,  with  their  pendulum-like  swing  of  rhythm:  "Why 
call  ye  me  Lord,  Lord,  and  do  not  the  things  which  I  say  ?  " 

No  persuasion  enters  more  deeply  into  my  mind,  my 
conscience,  and  my  heart,  than  the  persuasion  that  I  press  the 
message  chiefly  needed  by  the  church  of  to-day,  when  I 
present  Paul  as  the  highest  human  model  for  all  preachers, 
and  in  especial  when  I  most  commandingly  present  him  as, 
above  all  things  else,  the  apostle  of  obedience  to  Christ. 


MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE  525 

XXII 

XIX 

O  THOU  to  whom  the  imperial  spirit  of  Paul 

Bowed  down  in  worship  as  to  God  Most  High, 

Forefend  that  in  fatuity  I  try 
To  find  for  Thee  some  finite  measure!     All 
Endeavors  of  comparison  must  fall 

Futile  in  presence  of  infinity! 

What  human  greatness  then  so  great  that  I, 
By  saying  that  Thou  art  greater,  should  extol 
Thee  worthily? 

Yet,  is  it  true  that  Thou 
Wert  infinite?     For  Thou  wert  human;  yea, 

Didst  to  the  burden  of  our  sorrows  bow; 
Obedient  unto  death  becoming,  lay 

Thy  meek  head  in  the  sepulchre!     Whom  now, 
Thence  risen,  all  ages  and  all  worlds  obey ! 


526  MASTERS  OF  PULPIT  DISCOURSE 


XX 

A  LIVING  and  life-giving  soul !     A  source 
And  origin,  exhaustless  like  the  sea, 
Of  impact,  impulse,  movement,  energy ! 
A  radiant  centre  throbbing  thick  with  force, 
In  pulses  of  momentum  sped  their  course 
Wherever,  down  the  lines  of  history. 
Thought  has  been  molding  human  destiny ! 
A  glorious  voice,  unchangeable  to  hoarse 
Or  mute,  but  ever  ringing  loud  and  clear 
Its  one  great  message  in  the  ears  of  men : 
"  Christ  Jesus  risen,  ascended,  from  His  sphere 
Above  all  height,  beyond  all  finite  ken, 

Bending  to  sway  a  sovereign  sceptre  here, 
And  one  day  to  return  to  earth  again !  " 


DATE  DUE 


CAVLORD 


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